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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months

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Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.

(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️

It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.

Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.

Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.

The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.

But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.

Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.

“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”

“That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”

Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”

You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.

Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.

“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”

Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.

“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”

There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.

Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.

You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.

“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”

Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”

The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.

But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.

Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.

“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”

You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.

And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.

It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”

Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”

They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.

“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”

He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”

Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.

You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.

It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.

Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.

When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”

But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.

“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.

He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.

He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.

At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.

Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.

His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”

That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.

And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.

Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.

“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.

But you’re female. And females stay behind.

“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.

But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.

He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.

“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”

Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”

One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.

“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”

But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.

“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”

And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.

At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.

Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.

You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.

“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”

Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”

It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.

“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.

“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.

Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.

“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”

Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”

“You—”

“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”

You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.

“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.

“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”

Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.

There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.

Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.

Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.

You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.

You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.

But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.

You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.

Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.

Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—

You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—

“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.

“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”

You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.

“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”

Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”

“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”

“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”

He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.

But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”

You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”

There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”

“That it is.”

Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.

You can’t stand it.

It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.

But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.

It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.

Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.

You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

You really, really don’t.

You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.

That…that is not a good thought to have.

You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.

Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”

You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.

Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.

Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.

And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.

“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.

His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”

The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.

Or you could be honest.

You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.

You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.

And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.

“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”

A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“You…you don’t have to do that.”

Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.

But who says you can’t both get something out of it?

“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

A tiny, tiny little pause.

And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”

It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.

You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.

And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.

Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.

“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”

The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.

And your friend deserves that.

You plan to really show him.

You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.

“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”

He nods.

“I need your words. Swear it.”

“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”

He kisses you this time.

He really does like doing that.

The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.

But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.

Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.

Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.

Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.

It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.

You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.

His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.

Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.

“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.

“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”

You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.

But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.

So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.

Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.

The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.

Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.

From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.

But gods are you willing to try.

You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,

“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.

But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”

“Want me to keep going—”

“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”

You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.

It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.

Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.

The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—

A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.

And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.

You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”

It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.

So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.

Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.

You damn near moan at the sight of it.

But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.

Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.

Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.

It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.

“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.

“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”

“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”

“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.

And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.

“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.

And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.

Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.

“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”

You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”

And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.

And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”

Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.

You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.

As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.

He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.

You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.

“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”

“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”

His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.

Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.

And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.

But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.

“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”

You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.

So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.

What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.

And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.

“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

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barcaatthemoon · 1 month

Text

a bad feeling || arsenal x teen!reader ||

your bad feeling before a game ends up turning into your worst nightmare, but your teammates don't let you mope for too long.

"now that is a starter if i've ever seen one," katie said as she put her arm around your shoulders. you had been nervous all morning, nearly throwing up your breakfast before any of you had gotten on the bus. you were playing against manchester united, which meant going against tooney, but more importantly, mary. you had been with arsenal for a little while now, but you hadn't gotten to really play in any of the games against united yet.

"oh yeah, that backline won't know what hit 'em," alessia joined in. she wasn't sure what you needed at the moment, but katie's jokes had been making you smile so far. they wanted you to be relaxed and comfortable. there was a lot riding on this game, but the last thing any of them wanted was to put too much pressure on your shoulders. alessia wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she had done something to cause you to crumble. "you okay?"

"yeah, i'll be fine," you reassured her. a part of you felt like you'd be anything but fine. you weren't sure why, but you felt like something bad was going to happen. there had been something off all day, but you couldn't figure out what it was, so you tried your hardest to ignore it.

on the pitch, things were working fine until they weren't. manchester's girls were being a bit rough with you, which alessia and katie definitely noticed. at the half, katie had absolutely gone off ranting about them, but alessia had distracted you during katie's rant. you were a bit more winded than you normally would have been, but you didn't let the other team's aggression deter you.

"you go out there and score some goals," katie said as she pulled you in for a hug. you nodded against her before she kissed the top of your head and let you go. alessia pulled you into a similar embrace, something that she had noticed leah do during every game that you got to play in. leah's injury was hard on you, but everybody had picked up the slack to make sure that you were taken care of.

you started the second half in good spirits. you managed to get an easy break early on, slipping past their defense with ease. you kept your head forward like you'd always been taught to. the defense wasn't nearly as far behind as you had expected, and when you went to take your shot, one of them came in for a tackle. it wasn't clean, but she hadn't expected to connect as well as she had. your movement mixed with hers had you crumpling to the ground clutching your knee.

"(y/n)?" mary was the first person at your side. she pulled your head into her lap as she rubbed your back. ella was quick to join alessia and katie, as well as a few of your other arsenal teammates.

"i want leah," you whimpered. alessia frowned as she held onto your hand. they all crowded around you until the medics came with a stretcher to take you away. a few quick scans had confirmed your worst nightmare, an acl tear. it was worse than that, but all you had heard was that part. everything else out of the trainer's mouth had been garbled like your head was stuck in a fish bowl.

the rest of the day felt like a blur. you were whisked away to a hospital, several people from both teams and your national team came to visit you. it wasn't until you were back in london at your parents' place that you finally saw the one person you had been begging and pleading for all weekend, leah. she hadn't come alone, having heard how you had been moping since you left the trainer's room in manchester.

"hey," leah greeted you. she was speaking softly, just like everybody had since you got hurt. you were laying up in your bed, confined to your room to rest for a few days. technically, you could move around your house, but you didn't see the point in getting out of bed until you could play again.

"is it okay if i come in?" viv asked from your doorway. you perked up a little, not having seen her for what felt like forever. beth was with her, the two of them rarely separated off of the field. you nodded and scooted over so that there was more room for all of your teammates to come in.

"what are you guys doing here?" you asked. leah took the spot right next to you, the two of you having developed a special bond from the start. you had flocked to leah immediately, but back then, you had just been in pure awe of her. now, she was like your absolute best friend on the team and had stopped treating you like a baby all the time. that wasn't to say she wasn't fiercely overprotective of you like you were her sister.

"we wanted to check on you. i heard you've been having a hard time since the game," beth answered. you shrugged it off, despite knowing that she was telling the truth. you had been having an incredibly hard time dealing with your injury and the reality of what it meant. you were so young, and this was the kind of thing that ruined careers.

"more importantly, we wanted to remind you that this setback is temporary. you'll rest and rehab it, and take care of yourself so that it doesn't happen again, not for a long time at least. you'll bounce back from this because you're young and smart enough to take good care of yourself. i believe in you, we all do," leah said. "isn't that right?"

"yeah, i'll get better," you mumbled. leah nudged you, trying to get you to say it again louder. "i'll get better, and i'll stay better."

"that's right," leah said triumphantly.

"how long are you guys staying?" you asked. you were a bit distracted from your injury, and hopeful that your friends would stay for a bit. since joining arsenal, you hadn't really had much time for friends your own age. they didn't understand the strictness of your schedule and training regiment. it was just easier to hang out with your teammates, even if the age gap meant that you had a lot of differences in interests.

"well, i happen to have a clear night. in fact, i believe that mary and tooney are coming down for a little get-together. if you've got all your school work done, i am sure that your mum wouldn't mind if you stayed over," leah suggested.

"viv and i might even stop by for a bit before her bedtime," beth said. you had finished nearly your entire week's worth of work with an open schedule, which meant you were free to go to leah's for the night. that was something that your mother definitely knew, and had most likely even arranged to get you to come out of your room.

"do you mean it?" you asked leah. she nodded and helped you pack a bag to spend the night. it had been a long time since you'd gotten to attend a team sleepover, and even though you couldn't play and train with everybody else, you were glad that they still thought to include you. you hadn't admitted it to anybody else, but your big fear was that the team would shut you out because you were injured.

#arsenal x reader #teen reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal imagine

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quintinh43 · 2 months

Text

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

---

There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n," he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?" Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God" both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

#qh43 #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #luke hughes #vancover canucks #jack hughes #hockey #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl imagines #love soph

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opennwindows · 7 months

Note

If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?

If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖

Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs

A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!

btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.

cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,

GENERAL

ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.

he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.

the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.

contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.

ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.

lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.

ROMANTIC

you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.

“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”

would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.

he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.

after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.

favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)

not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.

now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.

he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.

ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.

the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.

a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.

please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.

pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.

big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.

NSFW

okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!

ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.

i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.

definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.

despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.

he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.

he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.

he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.

did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.

he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #celia reqs #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned smut #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned x you #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned hcs #creepypasta headcanon

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scintillyyy · 4 months

Text

the steph brown conundrum aka the problem with steph being a character with hugely divergent doylist and watsonian readings

okay, so like. there is always a part of me that feels that to this day, didio kind of won when it came to the destruction of steph's character. like she wasn't a toxic character like he thought before he got his hands on her, but since he did & there was fallout from it, it has completely destroyed dc's desire to do anything potentially interesting with her, even as they've brought her back. like. she will always just kind of be a shell of her former self, doomed to stay uncontroversial and in the background. because when it comes to steph, and the problem with utilizing steph as a character now, you have to acknowledge two things

steph from an editorial and out of universe perspective was treated horrifically. the nonsensical and terrible things they made her do to move along the plot of post-crisis are awful and excessively reckless to the point of intentional character assassination & it was all done to justify her fridging for bruce's (and tim's) manpain which is awful

but the things that steph did as a result of the above are extremely load-bearing and important on plot and character dynamics and motivations from war games all the way to reborn era & to try and remove or minimize things that happened as a result of those actions just because they were arguably out of character from her has the unfortunate result of completely and intentionally warping the characterization of everyone who interacts with her to the point where it negatively affects almost every single other character instead.

so in order to show this we need to start at war games, talk about what happened, & go into how this affects things & why her character assassination is not as easy to fix as cass's or leslie's

so war games. ah war games. you know, having recently reread it, war games is frustrating because it's arguably a semi good event for most everyone except steph and leslie (especially leslie--now that was character assassination.). so let's get into the bare bones of what exactly happens in war games (war games being the three main events of this time: war drums (the prequal), war games proper, & war crimes (the follow up & worst part of the event)) (and i'm not saying i necessarily agree with this, just. this is what we have to consider.)

war drums:

this event has two main stories - the bruce & leslie story and the steph becomes robin story

in the bruce & leslie story (which is definitely racist), we have a young teenage pregnant girl who shows up at leslie's clinic having been shot. leslie attempts to save the girl and baby, but is left in a precarious situation where only one can be saved. she reluctantly calls bruce for help finding the girl's family, who finds out that the girl in question is popstar l'shea's sister--the popstar and her entourage in question kidnap leslie & the girl & bruce finds them, where it's revealed the girl is actually l'shea's daughter (like i said. racist.). l'shea makes the decision to save the baby, which kills the girl. leslie tries to get bruce to see that he can't save everyone, and ultimately gets upset about the cycle of violence she feels he perpetuates when he goes to take mr. freeze back in. she later comes to talk to bruce & it ends on a positive note fairly consistent with the bruce & leslie relationship--one in which leslie wishes he could devote himself to saving lives nonviolently & hoping he could see her as an example. my only quibble is that bruce responds as "ha-ha" leslie when if you compare to the batman chronicles #18, bruce absolutely counts on her to challenge his worldview & be a shining example of what he cannot be.

we do start to see the seeds of character assassination for leslie here imo, though this part is the best understanding of her by far--she's always been a foil to bruce as far as her pacifism and her determination to try and show him that there are other ways than his crusade, but traditionally she's always been defined as well by her immense love for him & he for her. she fundamentally disagrees with his crusade, but she's going to be there for him because she knows there's good in him that's worth saving--because to leslie, every life, including bruce's, is worth saving. anyways, read the batman chronicles #18, where she's determined to use O- blood on zsasz because of her firm commitment to the belief that every life is precious & she and bruce talk about their differences in opinion but how she's determined to keep showing him there's another way & he wants her to do so. this leslie who has, up until this event, been troubled by his crusade--but has decided it's tireless, but worth it to show him the good in people, suddenly seems a lot more, hm. overtly hateful of how batman operates & the fact that he puts criminals back in prison just for them to break out and the cycle to continue & has a sudden desire to not work with him if at all possible because of her total disagreement with his methods. which is. hm. somewhat but not entirely consistent with leslie's motivation. leslie would have no problem asking bruce for help if it meant saving an innocent & the fact that he believes in the redemption of criminals is something she inherently believes in. anyways i digress-

the other main story is, as we all know, the steph becomes robin story. and while you do not have to agree with how it is written wrt stephanie, the barebones of what exactly transpires is thus: tim has quit robin for his dad. he is attempting to live a normal life--go to school, hang out with friends, & not do the vigilante thing even when he sees people in need. he meets up with steph, who tells him of her determination to return to spoiler now that her broken leg has healed & he tells her that it's very hard for him to leave the house on account of jack always being suspicious that he's going out to be robin & be involved in anything vigilante again (it is implied that this is the first time he had been able to get out in a while because of his dad, as he didn't know she got her cast off). one day, when tim is at school, darla aquista, who has a crush on him, kisses him out of the blue. this happens to be seen by steph, who is now officially active again & chooses to be active during the day as a result of wanting to avoid batman as she doesn't have his approval, has gone over to tim's school to check on him because she's suspicious he's hiding something from her other than he's basically under house arrest from his dad atm since it had been so long since she had seen him. it, of course, looks terrible to her and she flounces off--deciding that she's going to become robin. bruce agrees, which everyone--alfred, barbara, eventually tim, etc completely understands to be a scheme to lure tim back. steph proceeds to completely ghost tim for the next two months--he calls and leaves messages, and she never calls back or comes to see him at all--she is completely radio silent & avoiding him and he doesn't know why but he is worried. bruce tells stephanie that she will not be privy to any secrets & the minute she disobeys an order she's out (a double standard, yes, but completely consistent in that he, again, is using her basically only to lure tim back). meanwhile, scarab is hunting tim, killing boys in his age range with dark hair and their families in an attempt to kill robin as there is a contract out for his life. tim then finds out through the newspaper that the reason steph has been avoiding him is because she became robin & calls the batcave to finally talk to steph & ask her to meet so they can finally talk in perso. about what exactly happened and how on earth steph became robin. cassandra comes instead--steph doesn't show up because batman and robin are busy hunting scarab who is trying to kill tim/previous robin & tim needs to be put under protection. steph gets a tracking device on scarab. day 49, bruce and steph go to get scarab, bruce goes in while steph is let behind for support in the batplane, bruce gets blinded, steph disobeys bruce and comes in to help, steph gets caught by scarab, scarab gets away in the batplane because steph forgot to arm the security system. steph officially gets fired 3 weeks later for disobeying an order on day 71.

yea, it's something. but it is what it is.

war games:

so we get to war games proper. overnight, a gang war has erupted & set the city ablaze and into chaos after a letter was sent out calling all the crime bosses to the harbor where a firefight breaks out on account of the main player who was supposed to be there if those letters were sent out, matches malone, not showing up. since tensions are high, it's easy for then to start shooting and killing each other & in doing so creates an immediate and widespread vacuum of power in the criminal underworld of gotham that people leap to try to fill & wipe out their competition in the meantime. innocent people are caught in the crosshairs.

nightwing (who is already having a terrible time) shows up to help (with tarantula) & is personally dealing with the emotional fallout of letting tarantula kill blockbuster amongst other things.

barbara is doing her best to help out and triage people to help, but there's really only batman, batgirl, nightwing, tarantula, & orpheus against a whole city. and at this point, tarantula has taken over a gang under batman's command to try and control things and can't overtly help & orpheus was already in control of a gang under batman's command in an attempt to protect women & children and exert some control over the criminal underbelly of gotham and also cannot overtly help out.

stuff with hush is happening in gotham knights but i don't care aj lieberman, by god, i do not care.

tim is doing his best to go about his day and keep his promise to his dad and not go out to help despite the fact that the city is falling apart. this becomes harder when a rival gang comes to kill his friend darla aquista at their high school, on account of her father being a mob boss. the kids are panicked and run into the school for sanctuary and safety, but are followed in and darla is shot.

what happens next is that tim's school is taken over by gangsters--the ones who came to kill darla, and the ones who see the opportunity to kill the ones who are trying to kill darla--and the kids are trapped in there with them, doing their best to hide, but some are taken hostage & are at the mercy of their captives (kids are killed). tim shelters in the nurses's office & does his best to go out and help who he can bring to safety, alone with getting a lay of the school (which gang is where).

meanwhile, bruce, cass, & dick have been informed that tim's school is taken over and kids are dying. along with all their other current trauma, they have to go find tim in an active shooter zone where he could very well be dead. dick gets to be the one who finds him (such a traumatic time for dick btw), and he's thankfully okay. they get control back of the school and free the kids. batman comes out on live television holding darla's body--she's not dead yet, but she's close.

we find out where steph is. selina finds her and we finally find out why this happened: upset at getting fired and frustrated that she's never been able to truly land their approval, steph lashed out & stole a plan designed to unite the crime families in gotham under batman's control hoping that if she was able to set off a plan for batman & it worked he would take her back and she'd finally have his approval. however, the main man didn't show up and it fell to pieces--doomed to fail. and the reason that this all happened is because steph was never told that batman is matches malone. there's actually a ton of 'bruce what have you done' here. catwoman shelters steph & tells her to stay put. steph does not do so, she leaves so she can try to find orpheus & help get the situation under control because she knows he's key to the plan.

tim, unable to stand by any longer despite his promise to his dad after the thing at the school, returns to the manor where he is greeted by alfred & returns to being robin.

batman finally also realizes that what happened is his war game contigency plan/hypothetical/thought experiment just as a citywide blackout hits--a plan he never intended to implement, it was one of his hypotheticals. & they also start looking for orpheus, as he's the key because they need to keep him alive as the plan was for the criminal underworld to reform united under his, and therefore batman's, rule.. steph finds him first, just in time to see his throat slit--by black mask.

steph gets into a one v one altercation with black mask and is overpowered and at his mercy. he tortures her. it's gross, we all know.

tim tells his dad he's returned to being robin. we get what is probably some of the best jack drake charactetization. tim meets jack and dana so they can go help out at leslie's clinic to help the injured.

steph, eventually, after being tortured, finally tells black mask that the plan required orpheus and is now obsolete because orpheus is dead.

cass is looking for steph because she's probably the only one aware that steph is out as spoiler & she knows that the last time she saw steph steph was lying to her about something

leslie is currently acting extremely out of character. and she's kind of a jerk to cass when cass comes looking for steph & is downright hateful about his mission. (which. is ooc for leslie--while she's never agreed with bruce's mission she's always, always, loved and respected them all--consider her in NML vs here. she wants to end his crusade and him to do something better, but she's always looking to be a beacon of hope that there is another way. every disagreement should be steeped in her love for them).

hush is still here for some reason and will tell black mask where the batcave is

catwoman is concerned about steph--who has passed out from the torture--calling her "the kid you messed up so badly she started this whole mess"

batman takes over oracle's & the police's system by force. we're really in it now. steph wakes up, determined to get to batman to tell him about orpheus's death.

black mask, however, has taken over orpheus's identity and is contacting batman, ostensibly to continue the "plan". and darla officially dies, meaning her father is out for revenge and wants everyone killed.

batman meets up with black mask as orpheus & figures out spoiler was there, but he assumes she fought zeiss. he leaves, black mask is planning...something as orpheus.

batman has barbara take over the police waves once more. barbara is getting really sick if this shit.

gotham city is starting to rail against vigilantes as a result of the widespread chaos of war games, calling for them to turn themselves in.

batman has orpheus call a grand meeting. ostensibly to end things and ensure peace in gotham with everything unified under orpheus's commands. orpheus is, however, dead. black mask uses the meeting to set everything ablaze again & barbaba has to call off the vigilantes from helping to protect the gcpd to go help batman--this is the straw that breaks the camel's back of this causes an official break in the uneasy alliance between vigilante & gcpd and comissioner akins gives the order to shoot to kill vigilantes on sight (as also, as a result of the plan failing due to orpheus's murder it seems as if batman et al are on the side of the villains causing mayhem)

at this point the game it out of control & they have to focus on stopping it. cass finally has a chance to talk to batman and tell him her suspicions that steph was the one who set the entire thing into motion, which he has now figured out (on account of him finding traces of spoilers's at orpheus's)

dick gets shot in the leg by the police while fighting firefly

tim meanwhile is happy to return to robin, and actually has bunch of nice things to say about steph's time as robin--that she kept things light for bruce, that he's not too proud to learn from her--even if he did admittedly resent her a little bit for how it all went down. he's also currently in the middle of a breakdown over darla's death and is pretending everything's okay by just go go going.

steph has freed herself from her bonds and gets into it with black mask, finally overpowering him when she realizes "this isn't a game". she gets a gun to his head & wants to pull the trigger and end him for good, but can't--as that would mean betraying everything she's been taught. the hesitation costs her and black mask gets the gun and shoots her in the shoulder & kicks her down the stairs & leaves

she manages to get herself up despite her extensive injuries and escapes by rooftop, where she's finally found by batman, who brings her to leslie and begs her to save steph. he then tells her she did good & that she did everything she could & that the city owes her after everything she went through.

and black mask is still causing trouble--hush supposedly told him the location of the batcave & he plans to solidify his reign as the undisputed crime lord of gotham by sending everyone there--it's not the batcave, however--it's the clocktower. all the criminals are now converging on and headed for directly for barbara. they get in and make it past all her defenses and invade her safe space, black mask making it to her control room & taking her hostage. the gcpd also descend upon the clocktower.

batman goes ham and almost kills black mask, saying it'd be worth it to end everything that's transpired. tim creates a diversion by lying saying they'll turn themselves into the police. barbara blows up her clocktower so that bruce has to make the decision between saving her & killing black mask. bruce chooses to save her & it's over. bruce gets called to leslie's clinic, where it turns out steph had too much internal damage to save her. steph tells him that she started it all, and bruce says he knows but that they took care of it. he tells her that tim isn't mad at her and that the baby she had won't want for anything ever. he lies and says that taking her on as robin wasn't just to bring tim back, that she was really robin & that he'll be watching over her. she dies. black mask takes over as the new criminal overlord of gotham city.

as a result of all of the above, we get the following: gotham is no longer safe for vigilantes to operate. tim has been set in motion on the path of loss from darla to steph to his dad in another event that will eventually lead him to the mental space he needs to be in to become red robin and leaves for bludhaven. cass follows in her grief of all that transpired. dick is out of commission due to his gunshot wound & dealing with the fallout of working with bruce while feeling like he doesn't deserve to, but is also the only one left to work with bruce. barbara, whose safe haven was trampled upon and destroyed, feels gotham to go be with the birds of prey in another city. bruce is operating all but alone, save for a couple of other distant vigilantes.

we find out that bruce didn't--couldn't--tell tim steph had died until hours after the fact, and that's when tim was finally able to hear the whole story as to how steph became robin all the way to how the gang war got started. this is also when dick finds out the whole story as well.

and thus, war games ends

war crimes:

so we make our way to the epilogue of this storyline. the very aptly named war crimes

the public is still railing against vigilantes. it comes out publicly that stephanie brown was spoiler, then robin, and that her injuries were not thus that should have killed her. batman finds out and goes to leslie's to find out who leaked stephanie's information, only to find out leslie has resigned and her chief resident left with her. batman finds the resident, murdered in a clear attempt to set batman up. (it's black mask setting him up). a man named aaron black is railing against black mask, batman, & the gcpd for the gang war

we find out that treatment was deliberately withheld from stephanie and she was purposely left to die. we find out aaron black is the not so dead arthur brown. & we find out that crystal knows something and is prepared to spill it all. black mask comes dressed as batman to attack crystal brown on live tv. we find out the joker is after black mask for killing robin. the joker gets arrested, black mask gets arrested (and escapes), a tv reporter gets indicted, the leader of the odessa mob gets indicted, commissioner akins and athur brown don't get indicted, and batman has finally figured out who killed stephanie and goes to africa where she fled to.

in, quite possibly, the greatest moment of character assassination in this entire gd event we find out it was leslie who let stephanie die because she was tired of batman's crusade, destroying everything she once stood for just to prove a point to bruce about the senselessness of it all and to try and put an end to it. congrats to dc for this horrific epilogue.

so there it is--the entire event. it certainly is a thing that happened. and that's the problem--it happened. and it was very, very much intended as a personal fuck you and goodbye to the characters of stephanie brown and leslie thompkins. and that's terrible on so many levels. but unfortunately the fact of the matter is, despite that and regardless of any personal feelings about it, war games became a load-bearing event to batman canon.

because war games had so much influence on fundamentally upheaving and changing the status quo of the characters involved and storylines following this could not happen without war ganes existing. without war games, tim does not become the tim that will eventually become red robin. without war games, dick is not injured and out of commission and does not flee to new york and the mob, leaving bludhaven for tim and cass and on his passively suicidal mission that will eventually lead to infinite crisis and the one year boat ride. without war games, barbara does not leave gotham because she needs to leave it behind, only to return during the reborn era & all the tension that entails. without war games, bruce doesn't end up alone & isolated as needed for the red hood storyline. without war games, stephanie is not killed and thus can't be evolved into batgirl as an apology for the way she was treated. the dynamics caused by war games are essential to the stories that come after it. and then you're left with two very, very uncomfortable truths:

one, war games was a horrific fuck you and. fridging to a female character solely because of the evil sexism present at dc editorial at the time and of course you want to delete anything that had such awful intentions behind it

two, war games happening is essential to the trajectory of every single bat characters' story that comes after it including hers. and so it had to happen. and the thing with war games is that steph, while not completely to blame for it transpiring, was humongous part of it transpiring no matter what. because we end up with what it seems to me, the grand circle of blame. it goes as follows: war games never would have happened if bruce hadn't made his contingency plan to begin with -> yes, but. even if it is one of bruce's toxic traits to do that, he never intended for the contingency to go into effect and it was more of a hypothetical than anything and the only reason it ever saw the light of day was because steph stole it and put it into action -> yes, but. if bruce had been less of an asshole and told steph the basic information of matches malone is batman she wouldn't have made the mistake -> yes, but. to completely blame bruce is to remove any and all agency from steph, because nobody put a gun to her head and forced her to implement the plan, that was entirely her decision. and as much as we would have liked her to have decided she no longer needed batman's approval, the fact of the matter is she did want it and she did make the decision to send those letters -> yes but, if bruce hadn't had a contigency to begin with she wouldn't have had such an awful plan to steal -> yes, but having contigencies for plans that will never come to fruition is honestly a normal thing for them and bruce planning out a hypothetical is just another tuesday, and it was steph who set it into motion -> yes, but... and so on and so forth endlessly until the end of time. like, whether things were out of character or whatnot is a valid discussion (though all comics characters are doomed for stories where they're out of character), but putting that aside: the fact is, for every character's trajectory into the reborn era, war games had to happen. and for war games to have ever seen the light of day and happened, steph had to make the decision to send those letters.

and so we're left with this. steph made those decisions because of horrificly sexist behind the scenes decisions. if steph didn't make those decisions, then no other character trajectory makes sense. and that's how we end up with a steph conundrum that is so much harder to fix than any other character assasination of the time. because cass's was easy to retcon as brainwashing, it makes sense for slade being involved. leslie was easy to retcon as faking steph's death, that removes her intent to kill a child and restores her original characterization of every life is sacrosanct. but war games? war games does not and can not happen unless stephanie decides to send those letters. things with tim and barbara and cass and even through steph becoming batgirl don't happen unless steph sends those letters. and when she sends those letters, hundreds of innocent people die and even though bruce is largely to blame (and is blamed, by the narrative), there is a culpability of steph's active decision in the entire mess that exists.

and if that culpability exists, if she sent those letters and war games happened, and innocent people died and barbara had to blow up her home and tim had to do cpr with darla's blood pouring over his hands and dick got shot in the knee and had to find tim in an active massacre, and cass lost herself to grief, then from an in-universe perspective while it's easy to for them to blame bruce for the majority of it, it also is true that every single one of those people has the right to question whether she is capable of making good judgements because of the extremely bad one she made that had so many in-universe consequences & they were all victims of it. from an out of universe perspective, it is so, so, so hard to put that kind of culpability on her, though, because of the sexism involved in deciding to make her make those decisions.

(as an aside. you also get this same issue that occurs as a part of the last arc of the robin series--wherein in order to justify steph no longer being spoiler and graduate her to batgirl, they need her to make a mistake so bad it would justify the idea that spoiler is a tainted mantle & she can't go back to it--so they decide that she needs to hire assassins to try and kill tim under batman's orders. now this is stupid & nonsensical, and she makes a mistake like that due to writer sexism thinking that that was the way to go. but her making that mistake and hiring those assassins is essential to the overall self isolation of tim & him being unable to trust her amongst everyone else that he needs to be in the headspace to kick of red robin & steph needs to have made a mistake that taints the spoiler mantle & makes people not want her to be it otherwise why would she become batgirl... it's messy. very messy.)

but because of all the horrific sexism out of universe behind the decision to write her to do these things, you're left with. hm. it is hard to want to make her have any culpability because that would just be entrenching the sexist writing she's had & she was the biggest victim, but to just completely throw it out is to make every other character appear completely irrational and unreasonable when it comes to dealing with steph. and that's truly hard for dc--who, once they make her a headlining character in her own right as batgirl, now has to be a lot more careful when dealing with steph. because if any other character does have reasonable concerns about steph continuing to exist as a vigilante after the decisions she made that sparked off war games, or hire assassins for tim, or etc etc etc then you risk people being like "no, maybe these people have a point. maybe these people shouldn't have to work with her if they feel at all uncomfortable by decisions she made that resulted in truly terrible times for them."

so you end up. dc finally has to do something grand, something triumphant for stephanie's character to make up for the completely atrocious way she was treated before. and you get batgirl 2009, which is a triumph for her character, it's the approval she's always deserved but never given, she finally gets to show all her naysayers that she's worth it--that they were all wrong about her and she deserves to be there just as much as them. and she does deserve a big doylist apology--she was treated terribly & cruelly & it wasn't right for dc editorial to do so. but you run into. hm. this problem of in order to make this big doylist apology work, you need everything that came before it to have happened. because it's a big doylist apology you can't actually have it that those things to have happened because if steph has to prove herself to the naysayers, the naysayers have to be completely wrong about her.

and that's hard given we're in reborn era and bruce is "dead". because in that case, steph's naysayers have to be barbara, tim, & dick. and while steph shouldn't have to prostrate herself for forgiveness & they shouldn't blame her for everything ever (they've all had their own issues where they've made mistakes, some with tragic consequences, and therefore can't call the kettle black), the problem with having to make them her naysayers is that you have to make them unreasonable about her & that's hard to do when they were all victims of something that occurred in part due to a decision she made. you have barbara, who should be able to have reasonable concerns about whether steph is fit for the job because she had to blow up her own sace space because steph sent those letters. but you can't acknowledge that because that would be entrenching the sexism behind that decision. so you make it so barbara is the one in the wrong about her. you have dick, who should not be able to look at stephanie without remembering his little brother calling him, wanting to commit suicide over everything that's happened, without remembering the tim at the edge of the pit, without remembering getting the call-code 619-and realizing that tim's at the site of a massacre occurring at his school and could be dead, and he gets to realize he was completely wrong about her with no consideration to what complicated personal feelings he may have about her on account of his own most precious relationships. you have tim, who does have things to apologize to her about, to be sure, but has to be cast as completely in the wrong despite the things she did having to have happened such as hire assassins & everything he had to endure as a result of her sending those letters. and that's not to say that any of this means that she shouldn't be a vigilante of course, you can't have a double standard where male characters are allowed to make mistakes and continue on regardless of mistakes made and not afford that same grace to female characters. but at the same time, it's uncomfortable to cast barbaba, dick, and tim in the role of naysayers to be overcome because that erases their victimization by the events that had to have happened in order to make it to this point. and again, they don't have to blame her to feel like it's her fault to have reasonable discomfort because discomfort =/= blame, necessarily.

and you get into this entire mess solely because of the decisions didio made because he hated her character and was determined to destroy it. and it's gross! we hate didio! but like. way back to my original thought, in a way, he did succeed a little. because of the horrific things that happened to her due to cruel and gross out of universe editorial decisions, you do have to be extra delicate with the character. you've lost the ability to show steph making any sort of mistake that has significant ramifications because to do so is to go back to war games & all the baggage that that entails. you need to play it incredibly safe with her. she can't be shown to be in the wrong because of the horrific way she was treated. at the same time, you need things to have happened, but you need things to not have happened. it's just a lot of baggage for a character, and there's probably a reason why they still play it safe by sticking her with tim (until they broke up) and now cass. it's uncontroversial after everything she's been put through. idk. i think current continuity is the best chance to finally really do something interesting with her again given that the mistakes of the past are so softened and don't need to be forefront to the character anymore because we are in an era ripe for things happened but they didn't happen, but will they? i don't know.

#anywho this is probably super incoherent #but this is also the thing i rotate in my mind when i think about steph #this is why i like to envision steph as an unreliable narrator of bg #because then you have more space for the fact that others were also victims and they're not necessarily unreasonable #but since steph is also extremely traumatized and a victim of horrific things she has to not thing about the ramifications of her decisions #or something idk

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thatsdemko · 5 months

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who’s the worst of them all? someone tell Santa Claus! - f1 grid

part two | masterlist

warning: not intended for minors + some jokes + fluff/filler part

a/n: hi hi it’s me… I’ve had this written since early November and I’m excited to share!! enjoy!!

DEAR Y/N,

have you been a good girl this year? I heard you’re looking for your stocking stuffed, I think I have just the gift. meet me at midnight for your gift!

secret Santa

you can’t read this out loud, and most definitely not to the public who will view this video later. whoever was your secret Santa, must’ve heard the rumors of your dry spell. and how pitiful was if that it wasn’t even a rumor, it was the truth.

“oh it’s just a sweet handwritten note.” you chuckle quickly flashing the note to the camera before shoving it back inside the off white envelope.

the presenter presses for more information. she asks what the letter contains and who you think it’s from, and in all honesty, it could be coming from anyone.

all the boys handwriting was not legible. it was like getting a doctors script, it could mean anything, but it was clear this individual took their time to make it perfect.

“I’ll have to find out at the Christmas dinner tonight.” you flash a wink in hopes to cover the beet red look against your cheeks.

“well have fun!”

fun… this was about to be nowhere near fun when it came down to narrowing twenty something guys to be your secret Santa.

—

starting off with Pierre. in his bachelor days, he would’ve sent you something like this, but it was always harmless jokes and he would never take it this far. with kika around his arm, you could cross him off the list of embarrassing yourself in front of.

then there’s his best friend, Charles. he always had a wobbly relationship with women, and seeing he’s alone tonight you cross the room heading his way, “you don’t happen to be my secret Santa?” your hands delicately press against his shoulders, he turns around rather quickly at your touch instantly shaking his head, “no, no, I got Pierre this year. you still don’t know yours?”

shaking your head in response, you eye the room from where you stand. the bar had begun to fill with drivers and team members rather quickly. the air was colder now, but the heat from inside was welcoming to those dressed in bare minimum, like yourself. Charles hand against your lower back was like a radiator, the heat spread through your system faster than the log fire going on, “I’m sure you’ll find him.” Charles promises, “but for now, can I get you a drink?”

“please.”

—

the nights gone smoothly and so far you can cross off valterri, Logan, Kevin, and Nico. you’re questioning yuki, Daniel, Lewis, and lando due to their abilities to dodge the questions.

George outright told you it wasn’t him after hearing you’d spun yourself in circles to find anyone new to question. Logan had confessed to having brought up the idea, but refused to give any further information.

and then there was Carlos.

the man who’d been under your nose this whole evening. with his bow tie crooked, and the clock ticking closer to midnight, you meander your way over to where he stands.

“I’m not who you’re looking for, hermosa.”

“and who am I looking for exactly?”

his eyes flicker from the clock, the television highlighting the Real Madrid game, and back over to you, “I’d never send such a cryptic message.” he maneuvers his body to face yours, “I know how to ask for what I want.”

“and what is it that you want?” you press your body closer in to the smooth wood bar top. your mind is spinning, your heart is hammering it’s way out of your chest, and Carlos is inching closer.

“for you to leave me alone.”

“you’re no fun, sainz.” you pout your bottom lip out and spin on your heels to find your body pressed into lando’s.

“you find him yet?” landos cheeky grin makes him look like a Cheshire Cat. ever since he read the note he’d been eager to place the pin on the man and root for your dry spell to end.

for now, it’s ten minutes to midnight and the place was emptying. the alcohol buzzed around the room and the chatter begun to die, it’s ironic how it was a little bit like your heart: buzzing to find the guy, but ready to die at the sight of him.

“I’m sure it’s all just a prank and I’ll have Logan to blame for it.”

“miss,” the bartenders tap against your shoulder makes you spin away from landos chest, “this is for you.”

DEAR Y/N,

giving up? never thought of you as a quitter.

yours

grinding your teeth together you press the napkin into your palm until the ink smudges. you’re no quitter, but if the man with no balls doesn’t show up soon, you’ll leave here ready to slam your car into someone else’s.

“I’m going to head out, you’ll be okay to walk out alone?”

lando’s worries snap your thoughts from the napkin that’s disintegrating into your hands. his touch is soft against your bare shoulder, making your body two degrees warmer than the room, “I’ll be fine, you go home and have a good Christmas.”

“you too, and if you don’t find him—“

“yes, I know, you’ll key his car.”

rolling your eyes, you playfully shove the Brit off into the cold, leaving you and the cleaning crew in silence.

you never noticed how trashed the bar was. in its glory days, you can tell the red thick carpet and white trim around the bar gave the place a holiday feel. and by the old pictures scattered around the walls, the formula one boys had a riot in this place. people from Michael Schumacher all the way down to young Fernando Alonso, the place seemed to always be the home of f1.

looking down at the disintegrated napkin in your hand, and quickly looking up at the clock, midnight had just struck. if he wasn’t here by 12:01 you were a goner. you hated people who wasted your time, you’d much rather be at home or maybe in lando’s warm McLaren buzzing from the alcohol and the warm leather seats.

turning on your heel, he’d just arrived. he’s shaking the snow off his bulky black jacket, shimmering out of the sleeves. a man comes and retrieves it from his grasp, and in typical fashion, he thanks him.

“you thought I wouldn’t come?”

“I hate when people are late.”

“good thing I’m not late then,” he says with a soft smile approaching where you stand at the bar, with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. he leans forward, inching his mouth over your ear, “I’m right on time.”

a/n: take your guesses on who you think it is!! the big reveal happens Christmas Day!

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz z @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @goldenalbon

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

I’LL MAKE THIS FEEL LIKE HOME

cw: nsfw, 18+. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. wc 6k. todoroki fam lore. bnha manga + s6 spoilers. angst and fluff and smut and love and

“Do you feel held by him? Does he feel like home to you?”

- Midsommar (2019)

Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home.

And while it never fit the traditional cookie-cutter feeling of a home before then, it was comforting in its own kind of way. It was definite, something that he could hold onto and strive towards. Something that was there at the end of the day, no matter how badly his hands burned or how quiet the dinner table was.

Because before Shouto was born, there was still a chance.

Fuyumi and Natsuo were just as much of failures as he was—it was anyone's game. He could keep pushing, train his hand to defy the science of his body and deal with it. Become what his father wanted so badly he’d kill for. That was home, the knowledge that there was still a chance for him.

But the moment Shouto was born, hair perfectly split the same as his flawlessly cursed body, Touya knew.

Instantly, he knew that his time was over—that there was no saving his dream of making his father proud. He hadn’t been enough, and he would have to live with that, in a house that's no home with a family that lives in the shadow of what he never got to be.

He carries that feeling everywhere he goes. Like an eternal kink in his neck, it weighs heavy on his shoulders and disintegrates the marrow of his bones. Forever the boy without a home, Dabi continues to do what he does best—or maybe worst—and he survives.

But, you don’t remember when Dabi became home to you.

Well, that's not entirely true. Like all other things, you suppose it happened slowly, then all at once.

You remember meeting him when you shouldn’t have. Recognizing his appearance from the local news, you remember the heavy feeling in your chest, like a child who was caught doing something wrong. The fear, the confusion. The part of you that wanted to help, the other than wanted to run.

But you don’t remember how fast it all happened.

Sewing his wounds and scrubbing his blood from your floor. Letting him sneak in to hide out, and waking up to an empty bed. You don’t remember the days bleeding into nights, but you could never forget the way his skin felt against yours.

You remember the impact, but the falling is all a blur. The stranger sleeping on your couch who has now read all of the books on your bedside table. The one who hissed and snarled for you to stay away, now crawls home to you on his knees.

One day he wasn't, and the very next day, he was.

You think that’s enough for you, but Dabi knows it’s too much for him.

…

The sound of your window creakily opening no longer scares you in the middle of the night. If anything, it brings you a sick sense of comfort.

Dabi slides through your living room balcony with ease, far too familiar with the routine of navigating your apartment in the dark. It does the job for him—keeps him out of the cold, gives him a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head. He finds that he enjoys the perks of your shitty building complex.

Oh, and you're there, too. But, he swears that has nothing to do with the magnetic urge that keeps pulling him back to the fire escape on the fourth floor that remains unlocked.

He opens your cabinets in search of something, anything, to fill his stomach in the slightest. He’s thin, almost alarmingly so, if you didn't know him—didn’t know his body is constantly working against him, eagerly taking the destruction he so carelessly puts it through.

Your sudden voice doesn't scare him. He doesn't so much as flinch at your clear tone in the silence of your home.

“Cremation.”

He briefly looks at you over his shoulder, humorously expressionless, before turning his back to you and rummaging through the cabinet again.

“Gesundheit,” he scoffs.

“It’s what your name means,” you breathe, tone still devoid of any emotion he can detect—or deflect.

The realization burns him like his quirk, oddly painless but still alarmingly there. He holds his breath without realizing it, and its not until he coughs that he mindlessly exhales.

Dabi. Cremation.

True, he thinks. It’s no secret by any means, but he still finds his muscles tensing up as if you’d just said something you shouldn’t have.

He doesn’t let his facade falter as he plucks a box of saltines from your cabinet. “Doesn't take a genius to do a basic translate search.”

“It’s not your real name,” you state, addressing the elephant infiltrating the room.

And at this, he fully turns to you. You stand in the entryway of the dark kitchen, arms crossed and eyes filled with sleep (or lack thereof, Dabi isn't sure he can tell the difference just yet).

You're not angry. No, he's seen you angry before. This is different, harder. It's almost stoic. And while Dabi can’t put his finger on the exact feeling of the pit in his stomach, he knows he doesn’t like it.

He sticks his hand in the cardboard box before plucking a cracker and plopping the snack in his mouth. The salt burns the cuts on his lips when he sarcastically speaks, “You’re on fire with the observations today.”

He watches you shrug, expression still void of any true indication of whatever your heart is feeling. The only light in the tiny apartment comes from the stove behind him. He can just make out your silhouette and barely your face through hardened focus and adjusting eyes.

He thinks he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t want to see the details of your dissapointment when you see the real him.

“Figured it was a bit too coincidental,” you rest against the doorframe. Dabi takes it as a good sign, you're not stiff.

“Quirks don’t even manifest until a few years after birth, unless you were unnamed for the first five years of your life.”

Should’ve been, he bitterly thinks. Things would've been easier that way.

He bites his tongue.

The only sound that can be heard is the crunching of his teeth against the cracker he gnaws on. After a moment, he offers you one. You don’t move a muscle at his extended hand. He lets it sink back slowly, defeated, as he clears his throat.

“It fits, doesn't it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one he doesn’t actually expect you to answer. Because his name is all that’s known of him. Of course it should fit. Because when you look at him—his peeling and charred skin and hand that wields nothing but pain—it’s evident that all he can do is cremate.

His breath hitches when you speak up.

“To some, sure,” you decide.

With the way his chest tightens at your declaration, Dabi decides he doesn't like your tone.

He shields himself with his bark. “What’s that mean?”

“It means I want to call you something different,” you ache, but Dabi can read between the cracks you let falter. I deserve to call you something different, is what your heart bleeds onto the floor. I’m different.

He refuses to let that be the truth.

“Didn't think you’d be one for pet names, doll.” He tosses the half-eaten box back into your cabinet, lazily shutting the wood and wiping his crumby hands on his sleeves.

“I don’t see you how they see you,” your voice is stern now, he hears the determination in your shaky words. “I want to know your name.”

Your real one, the lines read once again. But in a split second, Dabi realizes he’s come too far to ruin whatever this is now.

“Fat chance in hell,” he dismisses, brushing your shoulder as he leaves the kitchen.

You’re quick to follow—as you always are, he’s begun to notice. You're like a mosquito constantly buzzing in his ear. No matter how many times he swats and repels, you come back stronger. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t hate it.

“Please.”

“No,” he’s even quicker to bore. “M’not dragging you into my shit.”

Too late, the voice in the back of his mind laughs. He’s always been his own worst enemy.

“There's more to you,” you continue to press, wanting something tangible, more from him. “You're not just what they make of you. You're a person, someone's son, someone’s–”

“Don't,” a balloon bursts behind his eyelids. His voice comes louder than ever before and it unsettles you, him, and the floorboards beneath your toes.

“Don't you ever...fucking say that again. You hear me?” With his finger in your face, Dabi shakes. He prays to whoever is listening that you see it as fury, and not what it truly is—fear.

And based on the tears flooding your eyes, he’d bet money he doesn't have that he’s right. In the silence of your home, you nod.

Dabi decides he’s had enough for one night, done enough to make you hate him just the right amount to forget about fixing him.

On the way out, Dabi mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Say something stupid like that one more time and you'll never see me again.”

…

Dabi is exhausted.

His burner rings obnoxiously through the bedroom in the middle of the night.

You’ve begun to associate the loud melody with the feeling of a knife—the blade cruelly trickling its tip against your skin. Cold, sharp, barely applying enough pressure to make you hyperaware of its potential to rip everything you've ever known away from you with a mere movement forward.

You never know who’s on the other end of the line, and this time is no different. When the infamous sound sends a chill up your spine, Dabi answers it without a second thought. He wordlessly picks up, listens intently, and hangs up as quickly as it rang.

Then, he’s out of bed and putting his shoes on.

He knows you're not asleep, so there's no point in pretending to be when you crawl out of bed and follow him to the den of your home.

He grabs the remote, flicks the television on, and eagerly surfs the channels until he lands on the local news. Endeavor runs through the barren and obliterated streets of downtown, defending the city and fighting some… creature. You don't miss the way Dabi’s eyes don't blink whenever the hero is on screen.

He’s too focused, too emotional when it comes to him. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him, and you're tired of pretending not to see the smothering fire in his eyes whenever the man is brought into discussion.

The reporter on the screen flips to another battle somewhere else in the city, with other heroes and other creatures and other things that should matter right now but for some reason don't. Because when Dabi finally takes his eyes off the screen to slip into his shoes, you spill.

“Why him?”

He harshly tightens the laces of his boot, “Huh?”

“Endeavor,” falls from your lips, and he nearly hisses at the sound of the name on your tongue. “Why him out of all heroes?”

He hesitates in the slightest. The average eye wouldn't have noticed his pause, but you know him. You see the way he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the staples sealing his chin.

He merely shrugs before tying his other lace, “He’s number one.”

“He wasn't always,” you contest, a bit too accusatory for his liking.

“Why does it matter?” Dabi bites. Bites the hand that feels him, shelters him, listens to him and chooses to remain quiet with what it knows. He bites the hand that loves him, and he almost regrets it when he sees your slight shock.

Almost.

His stomach churns as he watches you slightly falter before finding your footing once more. “It seems to matter to you.”

So it matters to me, your heart aches to drill into his rock-solid mind. His eyes feel hot on your skin as he shakes his head and stands from where he sits.

“He’s not a good guy, none of ‘em are.”

“How do you know?”

His grip on his coat tightens in frustration. “I have a ton of shit on him. He’s not the savior you think he is.”

“I don’t think he’s a savior,” you retort, and it comes out a bit childish, like a belief you wish to convince yourself of. “I don’t know him.”

“But you trust him,” Dabi is quick to jump, almost as if you've fallen right into his trap. He looks a bit wild, as if you’re prey in his hands, saying all the right things so sweetly just for him to do what a predator does and hunt. Sink his teeth into your flesh and ruin you for the thrill of it.

“Cause he’s the face of the fuckin’ country?” he coos with a venomously fake smile. “Cause he’s big and strong and always does the good thing, right?”

He’s trying to scare you, you know this—but you’ve never been scared of Dabi. Not when he’s tried to make you be, not when he’s done unspeakable things. He doesn’t scare you, but he’s upsetting you. He’s being mean, which isn't new to you but still rare enough to sting.

“I trust you,” your voice cracks, making his stomach churn with shame, “so if you don’t trust him, then I trust you have a good reason not to.”

Silence overtakes the room and Dabi’s chest burns with bile rising.

You trust him? On what grounds? What reason has he given you to just hand over your patience without a fight, without a reason?

Most importantly, if the thought of you trusting him makes him sick to his fucking stomach, then why does he find his lips moving before he can stop himself?

“He beats his kids.”

The television cuts to a commercial. A car drives by below, honking furiously at something or other. He says it casually, eyes looking away from yours.

Your voice is barely heard, “His kids?”

You didn't even know he had kids. Come to think of it, you knew of one boy. Fire and ice who attends the hero facility downtown that's always getting into trouble. Set to follow in his father's footsteps, according to the tabloids.

Dabi’s face doesn't falter at your surprise, immune to the violence he knows lives within his words. “Wife, too.”

The pieces don't add up in your mind. Dabi’s never been one for morals, not one for evening the tides and setting the universe straight when it comes to what's right and what's wrong. He does what he wants, he’s selfish. So why on earth would he care about a tragedy that doesn't involve him?

He interrupts your thoughts when he walks over to the front door. The sound of him fiddling with the lock makes your heart drop—because it means he’s leaving, and for how long, you never know.

“Doesn’t anymore, apparently, but he did for years,” he scoffs in disgust. “Claims he’s turned a new leaf. Wants to be father of the year, all of a sudden.”

Leaving before you can process any thoughts to convey into words, he sneaks through your door without a second thought.

“The good guys aren't actually good, y’know,” he warns as he leaves you.

You don’t see him for two weeks.

…

Dabi doesn't fuck you with caution.

It's the same every time. Rough, quick, desperate. You on your stomach and him towering behind you. He doesn't look at you or say much other than a grunt or curse here and there. Always pulls out, if he even cums, and always leaves right after, if not in the middle of the night.

But that doesn't mean it’s not good. Because fuck, it's great.

While short-lived and based on nothing but selfish, primal needs, it's a private moment of feeling nothing but him. His hands are everywhere and his teeth are never too far behind. His skin is on fire and his pace is nothing short of eager.

Your back is arched as your face is pressed to the mattress. You feel his cock throb as it swells against the insides of your walls with every rushed and eager thrust.

“Fuck, please,” he hears you breathily whine, and you feel his smirk against the skin of your back.

He uses your polite desperation to reward you, snap his hips extra hard and bury himself to the hilt of your cunt. He sits and burns inside of you, grip tight on your waist as he pulls you as close to him as he can without swallowing you whole.

His tip dances directly at the opening of your cervix, just barely brushing the overly tender spot with a feather-light prodding that somehow feels like too much and not enough. He lets himself continue to stretch you, to mold you, to enjoy the only thing he believes was made for him before he ruins it.

He feels you repeatedly clench around him as you mewl, “Please, more please.” You’re already completely spent when you plead, “Please, Dabi.”

And just like that, a switch is flipped inside of him.

His grip on your hips tightens, “Don’t.”

He goes to pull out of you completely, but your cry from his movement halts his hips. “Oh, nnnngh, Dabi—!”

In a whirl, you're flipped onto your back and met with a harsh gaze.

“Don’t,” he growls into your throat, “call me that.”

Frozen in place from both shock and pure need, you airily gasp when you feel his cock head brushing itself through your folds. With a scarred wrist, Dabi swipes his tip between your folds, eyes fully absorbing and watching your expression twitch with every sensitive brush.

“Touya,” he tells you through a slack jaw, watching your eyelids flutter at the teasing.

He pushes himself into your cunt, not fully, but enough for you to cry in slight release, before pulling out to where his tip is the only part of him swallowed by you.

“Touya,” he repeats, nearly chanting as he aches to engrain it into your system. So it’s all you’ll ever know, the only word your tongue will ever taste from now on, no matter who is sticking what inside of you. He works to make your body remember that the only thing it should think of when feeling the slight stretch of your throbbing cunt is—

“Touya,” he bleeds. It almost doesn’t even sound like a word. “Say it. Touya.”

And you do. It crawls breathy and drunk from your throat as if your lips were made to form its syllables. Like a holy mantra falling from your lips, his whole body shivers when he hears your sweet heaves.

“Touya,” is whimpered into his lips.

He holds his breath for a beat, before shakily recollecting himself from his quickly approaching high and readjusting his grip on your jaw.

“Again, fuck.”

“Touya,” you gasp at his now snapping hips. It’s deeper, slower, and even more desperate than you thought it was before. It's messy and tired and he cradles you in his palms as you chant his name like a prayer.

Touya. Touya. Touya.

He abruptly finishes inside of you, his spurting warmth easily sending you over the edge, too.

While it was something that was always offered, Touya has never once come inside of you, always choosing to pull out last second, if he finished at all. You savor the moment, letting him rut his cum into you until your both dry with exhaustion.

Breathing returns to a normal rate and Touya lets himself soften inside of you. With his head burrowed in your neck, he makes a move to pull out of you. To leave, your chest tightens at the realization, so on instinct, you let your legs wrap around his torso, crossing your ankles and keeping him as your own for just a little bit longer.

Without a fight, he lets you. He lets himself stay inside of you as he drifts to sleep in your hold.

“Touya,” he hears you coo, listens to you taste it on your tongue and determine that you like its flavor.

“S’pretty,” you decide in a sleeping daze. “Fits you better.”

Dabi drifts to sleep thinking about the irony of that statement.

…

The puzzle pieces itself together rather quickly after that.

It turns out Endeavor does have kids—four, to be exact. Three boys and a girl, all different equations of fire and ice and grief.

It's not hard to find articles on what happened at Sekoto Peak. What happened to Touya Todoroki, the boy who died for nothing, who you now know somehow sits alive on your couch with a bowl of ramen noodles and a wet head.

He focuses on the television before him. A cheesy horror film from the late 80s plays through the grainy screen. His feet are resting on top of the coffee table and the bowl in his lap is steaming. He uses his chopsticks to dive in regardless of its heat.

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, you can smell your eucalyptus shampoo in his hair from where you sit. Though his head is still damp, you can tell the color has gotten lighter. While still practically jet black all over, you're able to see the slightest tint of light peeking through his roots. You know better than to ask, but you're sure your guess is as good as any.

Touya must feel your gaze on him because his eyes flicker to the side where you quietly admire his profile. Through a mouthful of noodles and steaming broth, he mumbles.

“What’re you doing?”

You smile at the lack of enunciation in his words before innocently shaking your head. “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, his eyes narrow. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” he accuses.

You roll your eyes out of habit though your heart is anything but irritated, “What, I can’t look at you, now?”

He uses the next bite he takes to hide the smirk growing on his face. “Not with that stupid look on your face.”

He takes pride in watching you get flustered, scrunching your nose and giggling out a horrified, “What look?”

He reaches across the couch to close the gap between the two of you, before flicking your forehead.

“That look,” he declares.

He doesn't move back to where he was sitting. He lets himself remain next to you, your head lightly resting on his shoulder as the sound of the movie webs throughout your living room.

It’s easy, too easy. It’s natural and warm and feels like the closest thing to a home he’s ever held in his calloused and weeping palms.

And Touya is selfish.

He wants to grasp onto it, white-knuckled and pressing crescents into his palms—he wants to keep you. Wants to keep this. But he knows better.

Touya knows that the stupid look on your face was one of love. Pure and undeniable. But he doesn't let himself think too much about it.

…

The weather changes with the wind, and it’s colder in Japan when Touya gives you a piece of him you never thought you’d get.

He’s just arrived back from god knows where doing god knows what, but you’ve learned not to question it. You welcome him in every time with a warm smile and an urge to hold him, and he thinks maybe thats why he hears himself suddenly spilling.

“Saw him today,” he breathes evenly.

His words hold no context, no prior conversation triggering his statement. It just exists in the space between the two of you on the couch, and the ball is in your court.

Your head tilts in careful thought, “Who?”

“Downtown,” he ignores your question, “cornered him for a second and everything.”

And though you know nothing and shouldn’t be able to understand the man beside you, you do.

You feel his pain in the way his eyebrow twitches, how his fingers crack against his palms. You might not get it, but you try. You’ll always try for Touya.

You encourage him, “And what happened?”

The wind howls outside, and you feel your home settle beneath its harsh hit. The walls crack with movement as the two of you remain seated beside one another.

After a moment, Touya clears his throat.

“Nothing,” he bitterly laughs to himself. “Absolutely nothing.”

The tea in your hand buzzes heat through its mug, and it feels like Touya’s touch. When he’s careful and cautious and places his hands on your stomach, treating you like glass he needs to mold.

“Looked me dead in the eyes, felt my fuckin’ flame, and—” he cuts himself off at the emotion crawling into his words with a cough, “and nothing.”

You say nothing, but Touya knows that nothing needs to be said. He can sit on his couch with the tea you made him and the look you're giving him and he knows he can trust you. As much as he doesn't want to, he can.

With his head hung low in shame, he rips off the only bandaid he’s ever had for the deepest wound he never got the chance to properly clean.

“He’s my old man,” he harshly swallows.

After a moment of silence, he drags his head up from the floor.

You're still looking at him the same, eyes dancing with love and some sick want to understand him.

You simply reach across the cushion and squeeze his hand.

“I know,” you whisper.

And in what Touya imagined to be an earth-shattering conversation, he feels the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into an ironic smile.

“’Course you do,” he laughs under his breath. It's not malicious or accusatory, it's a matter of fact.

Because of course, you know. Of course, you would see through his master puppetry and barring fangs. Of course, it wouldn't change how you see him.

Of course.

In what should be a terrifying moment, Touya lets himself smile. He shakes his head as he sighs, “Father of the fuckin’ year, right?”

…

“M’gonna do something,” Touya tells you solemnly one afternoon in bed, “and you’re gonna hate me for it.”

The freshly setting sun shines through the window, and you can feel its heat warming up your legs through the frame. The rays feel oddly contrasting to his cloudy day words.

You open your eyes to find his. They’re already looking back at you, glasslike as they flicker across your features. Like he’s searching for something neither of you have an answer to.

Your foot brushes against his calf as you shift to face him.

“I could never hate you,” you softly remind him, “you know that.”

Touya fights the urge to roll his eyes, and you bite back a smile at the agitation wrinkles forming on his forehead. Your fingers move without thinking, using your thumb to iron and smooth over his delicate skin.

“Fine,” he huffs, but you don’t miss the way he softens beneath your touch.

“I’m gonna do something and you’re gonna yell at me for it,” he follows up more gentle this time, like a tainted whisper afraid to be too loud in the honeyed quietness of your home.

It fills your stomach with a familiar sense of unease.

“Well, do you deserve to be yelled at?”

He softly smiles, one equal parts of happy and sad, “Probably.”

You return the look as you sit on his words. He’s treading lightly, which is a thoughtful change compared to his usual acting on impulse.

He’s cautioning you. Preparing you for something bitter, and while you appreciate the warning, you know it can’t be anything good. It feels a lot like the breathtaking sunset before a disastrous overnight storm.

Your voice is a whisper when you meekly ask him, “Can you tell me any more?”

And though the look on his face is regretful, his answer comes all the same.

“No,” he swallows.

And like the saint you are, Touya doesn’t know why he’s surprised when you merely bob your head in understanding and smile.

“Okay,” you nod.

You expect that to be all. Because Touya’s never been one for words, let alone more than the bare minimum amount needed. And you were deemed lucky enough to get a vague warning.

That should be the end of the conversation, but it’s not.

Touya reaches for your wrist and his fingers dance along the bone lightly. He doesn’t remove his eyes from where they bore into yours when he breathes.

“M’sorry.”

The words are foreign on his tongue, and his smallness unsettles you. Something feels wrong, like nausea brewing and waiting for bile to finally strike.

You sit up, cradling his face in your palms as you coo words of reassurance. He feels cold, his body temperature ironically contrasting the heat that runs through his veins. He’s trying so hard to keep whatever he knows inside the clear cage of his mind, but you can practically hear the cracking of the glass beneath it’s weight.

“Hey, no,” you exhale between kisses to his hairline. “No, don’t start that shit.”

Because while he doesn’t tell you everything, Touya tells you enough, and it’s more than you ever thought would be true with someone as out of reach as him.

He may not tell you he loves you, but he says it through his eyes. He doesn’t tell you how he has so much respect for you it could swallow him whole, but sometimes, in the glimpse of his stolen glances, you can feel it.

He can’t tell you what he’s going to do, but he can tell you he’s sorry. And that is something in and of itself.

Touya closes his eyes at the affection. He wishes he could freeze time and savor this moment forever. Keep it as a souvenir to place on his shelf and keep him company on lonely nights to come. He doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to be anywhere else that isn't here, right now, with you.

He does his best to soak in how your lips feel against his as you promise, “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

But he’s not so sure, because while you think he’s apologizing for not being able to tell you more, Touya is apologizing for the hell he knows is to come.

…

He’s dead. He has to be dead.

The screen in front of you feels like a cruel joke as it flashes clips of the scene. Not Dabi, but Touya, on national television—spewing venom to the entire country with a smile. .

He speaks slowly, solemnly, like he's thought this through. Like he’s rehearsed and planned this all along. He speaks like a spiraling politician, and it cuts like a blade in your back.

You think about the television screens across the city right now.

A family whose gameshow night got rudely interrupted. A cafe whose workers are making their final lattes for the night, sweeping the floors and washing the counters as his rambling mindlessly plays in the background. You wonder if anybody is home at the Todoroki residence, if the television is on, or if it was unplugged years ago.

Touya is dead, and he warned you.

That’s why he did this, why he planned this to unfold the way it did. He told you that you’d hate him, and like a fool, you told him he was wrong.

A knock on the door is barely heard over your heavy breathing, and you debate on answering it.

It has to be the police, or maybe even a hero—looking for you, now an accomplice blinded by a mirror you thought was a window.

Your brain starts to spiral with thoughts that make your chest heave.

Did Touya turn himself in? Go down without a fight? Did someone see him leave your home? Had they known this entire time?

Maybe they were waiting for the right moment to strike, for the dominoes to ripple so they can make their move when you’re too weak to defend yourself. Maybe he double-crossed you, blamed whatever he could on you before driving a getaway car in the opposite direction of your apartment. Maybe he never cared at all—maybe the realest thing you’d ever known was orchestrated from beginning to end.

Another knock comes, this time more urgent and harsh. And there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable—so with tear-stained cheeks and shaking shoulders, you open the door.

And it’s Touya.

With white hair and soggy clothes, he stands in the hallway of your crumby apartment complex.

You want to laugh at the irony of it all. The first time he uses your actually door instead of window, he's a new man.

New hair, new name, a new look in his eye—one that swims of something you can't put your finger on. He’s alive and in front of you, and regardless of the anger overflowing your cup, you need to feel him.

So you pull him through the threshold, inside of your home, and against your skin. You feel the wet leather of his jacket, and smell the ash from the battle mixed with the coffee he had before he left this morning.

He’s here, and you love him.

“I hate you,” your cries vibrate against his chest as you weakly push and punch at his shoulders. “I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Touya lets you sob into his shirt. It’s covered in your tears and blood that’s not his. He lets you thrash and scream and crumple beneath his hold.

He wants to say I told you so. I told you you’d hate me.

“How could you do that,” he makes out between your hyperventilating and sobs, “how could you do that to me?”

His throat restricts with tears that can’t come as you melt against his body, “I would have never done that to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya breathes, and he repeats it. Says it again and again and again until it all bleeds together into nothing but syllables and sobs.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m home, and I’m sorry.

…

The bedroom is cold, the window slightly cracked open as Touya shuffles your quilted blanket off of his clammy body.

He always runs a bit hot at night, though he’s ironically ice to the touch when his quirk isn’t at work.

Now on top of your comforter, his scarred palm lays open to you. He flinches every now and then as you delicately draw shapes into it with a painted fingernail. His eyes are closed, but he’s able to recognize the swirling form of your movements, the same ones you’ve drawn every night since he came back home to you.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this at peace.

After everything, he’s still here. And not only is he still here, but he’s okay with that, because he’s with you.

“I've never—” he hesitates, but the darkness illuminating the room gives him a surge of confidence.

“I've never had this,” his voice is pained, nearly softer than silence itself.

He feels your finger stop swirling for a moment, but it resumes just as quickly as it halted. He feels you alter your pattern, and with cleaner lines and softer edges, he’s able to recognize the heart you doodle on his skin.

“Had what?” you gently ask.

“A home,” Touya breathes, before correcting himself, “where I’m wanted.”

You smile and Touya feels so loved he nearly makes himself sick. He feels so held, so wanted, so right in your bed and beneath your delicate fingertips.

The stranger in your home. The outlaw who smells of your perfume. The boy who never got a second chance, but the man who got a third.

Touya has so much love for you that he doesn't know where to put it all.

But for a moment, when he looks at your smile and feels your fingertip tracing his palm, he sees it as you offering your open arms to hold any excess he can’t carry.

He feels you grin against the scarring of his wrist.

“Well,” you kiss the tender spot where skin meets stitching, “you might wanna get used to it.”

#i am very very proud of this pls be kind to me thank u love u muah #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x you #touya todoroki x you #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi fic #touya fic #touya todoroki fic #dabi smut #touya smut #touya todoroki smut #touya angst #dabi angst #touya todoroki angst #dabi fluff #touya fluff #touya todoroki fluff

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b14augrana · 6 days

Text

‘Nervous’ — Lucy Bronze

(see pt. 1 here)

Summary: You find yourself sitting next to Lucy on the team bus during the ride to your first match after an interesting first impression.

Warnings: Teen reader so no smut and also not proofread xx

A/N: This was requested!! Sorry it took ages for me to write this second part, it’s been a hard week for Barça fans 🫤. Bear with me guys but this is kinda short 🤦‍♀️!! I’m making up for it with a part 2 of my Ona fic if anyone cares heh… 😅

Meditating. The only way you could possibly shake off the nerves of your first game... if that was even possible. What was a big deal to most players was an even bigger deal for you. Not because it was a special match of any sort, but because you felt like you had something to prove, y'know, being 17 and all. Being young, underestimated, and in some eyes, unreliable.

That all led you to sitting cross-legged on your bed, meditating and almost losing your breath completely trying to hold it and calm yourself down. You couldn't tell if it was actually calming you down or just getting you closer to losing consciousness, so you stopped shortly after.

The team bonding sleepover you had with your new teammates had flown by, and before you knew it, it was 6 something in the morning and you were calling a taxi to take you back to La Masia, your bags slung on your arms and weighing your already tired body down. That was a couple days ago, and now you weren't as groggy and you had retrieved the t-shirt you left at Aitana's house.

You liked it though. You got to know the girls and you definitely bonded. You just could not stop thinking about Lucy.

She was cocky, and she was attractive — that was probably the worst combination. What made it even worse was that she knew she was attractive.

It wasn't just the way she talked, but the way she sat with her legs spread and her arms splayed along the couch, the way the muscles in her forearm slightly flexed with every slight movement, the way she smiled. The way she was very, very well aware of the effect her actions had on you.

"Muchaha, vamos!" said a voice from the hall of the dormitories which you could only recognise as Ona. She peered around your door frame, rolling her eyes. "Are you gonna move or keep sitting there? We've got a bus to get on!"

"Shit, I forgot about that. Lo siento," you replied, snatching up your gear and almost tripping on your way out. You stumbled down the hallway and down the stairs, exiting the academy complex to be faced with the huge team bus. It was staggering to realise how big it actually was, and you were glued to the spot in shock for a moment before a firm tug on your wrist snapped you out of your trance and dragged you onto the bus.

At first glance, it looked like there weren't any seats at all. "Where are you gonna–" you started, but then you were cut off. "Looks like someone saved you a seat, Ona remarked.

You looked at her, your eyebrows knitted in confusion, and they tightened when she dashed to the back of the bus and slumped next to Aitana. You threw your hands up and shook your head in further confusion.

She pointed to the only other vacant seat, and their simultaneously mischievous winks didn't make sense until you looked over to where they were pointing.

Lucy was looking at you with a smirk, and beside her was an empty seat. Your eyes widened as you glared at Aitana and Ona, pleading and begging with your eyes for them not to make you sit next to her. They had obviously picked up on your behaviour around Lucy, because they pretended not to notice you, leaving you with no other option but to sit next to Lucy. Her smirk was far from welcoming, and it actually irritated you as you threw your bag into the overhead luggage compartment and sat down, crossing your arms.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Did I do something?" she jeered, whispering in your ear. "Cut it out, Lucy," you snapped back.

"Hey, this isn't my fault. You're the one that's all frustrated for no reason about sitting next to me when I’ve done nothing," she replied, laughing at your behaviour.

"You’re too pretty to be scowling like that. Gives you wrinkles," Lucy continued, looking over at you with that same smirk that you just wanted to slap off her face. That same smirk that drove you crazy in more ways than just one. You couldn’t tell if it was just her personality, or if she deliberately did these things to get under your skin. Either way, that’s what was happening.

"Whatever. Thanks, I guess," you mumbled, not being able to help the warmth in your cheeks. You knew it was wrong, because you were 17, she was God knows how old, but you couldn't help whatever it was that made you want her despite wanting to hate her so badly. It was a contradiction you couldn't escape, one that would seem to trouble you until you were 18.

It was irritating to be so bothered and nervous by the woman beside you who could do nothing and still make your breath hitch. Ona and Aitana were probably having a field day in the back of the bus as they watched you struggle, knowing exactly why you were behaving the way you were; because you were attracted to the Englishwoman. You knew it came with being a teenager, but having desires about a certain someone was the last thing you needed on this day specifically, let alone every other day that you’d have to spend with her because it was inevitable.

“¡Mírala! Obviously she likes it,” Aitana whispered to the other Spaniard on her left.

Ona snorted and replied in a hushed voice, “Ni siquiera es mucho más joven, pero aún así sería ilegal. ¡No queremos que Lucy vaya a la cárcel!”

They tried to stifle their laughs as they watched you sneak not-so-discreet glances at the woman beside you. Their attempt was successful for the most part, because you and Lucy didn’t hear, but Patri did, and she gave Ona and Aitana a suspicious glare.

You weren’t paying attention to them — you were too busy distracting yourself by counting down the minutes until you arrived in València… and also the days until your 18th birthday. For no specific reason.

#fc barcelona #fc barcelona femeni #woso #fcb femení #barca femeni #woso community #barcelona femeni #football #futfem #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #woso x reader #woso imagines #x reader #Spotify

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ystrike1 · 29 days

Text

How To Refuse the Route - By Saessak (8/10)

This yaoi/harem/isekai/otome mess is relentlessly adorable. Super sweet, slow, and full of dread. The very careful protagonist accidentally sets off the worst red flag by...being friendly and choosing to have a normal childhood. Yup. He didn’t go around seducing everyone. He made a bunch of friends instead. Too bad about the secret yandere character. Better stop running, or the country will drown in a bloody revolt!

Jerry Route is a pretty nice guy who gets reincarnated into a really weak body. He's got a loving family. He's a Counts son....but he quickly figures out that he's in some sort of dating game. Everybody spoils him a bit too much, and there's game mechanic symbols about love everywhere.

The love stuff immediately takes a backseat, because Jerry is in love with magic! His new life is awesome, and he doesn’t wanna worry about love yet. He's not even old enough to go to school! Plus, his health really is awful. He enjoys his new life, and he puts some work into his health. The love and romance premise isn't his priority for many years.

Some of the love hints absolutely disgust him to the core. He starts to suspect there is a "twin brother" route. He tries to have a healthy relationship with all of his family members, and he remains calm. He actually starts to love his game family. AS A FAMILY nothing more. Dating his twin brothers, or his elder brother, would be a nightmare.

He absolutely rejects those routes.

The next route is with the pretty crown prince, Karyan. Jerry mistakes him for a girl at first. Their relationship is tense in the beginning, because Karyan doesn't trust very many people. Jerry gets poisoned though, and they become close friends.

Jerry becomes very close friends with the unwanted fourth prince. A mousy and nervous boy named Ilya. Jerry wasn't supposed to meet Ilya until later. They only meet because Jerry always actively avoids romance. They kinda have a cat together it's really adorable.

Everything is sooo sweet I wouldn’t have known about the yandere part if it wasn't in the promo art.

Karyan is definitely the good prince. He's supportive and kind and he's burdened by all of the manipulative people around him. Jerry has a refreshing personality and a childish love for magic that makes Karyan smile.

Jerry isn't interested in picking a route though. He wants to stay friends with all of his friends, and obviously his brothers.

He starts searching for The Guide Book. A cheat item that can help him avoid the games plot. He wants a certain ending. The Mage Ending. Where Jerry graduates single and he quietly lives inside The Magic Tower.

He enters school with hope. Both princes are incredibly kind, even though they don't get along too well as brothers. Jerry makes other friends too, and he does well in school. Being kind and honest has rewarded him with trusted friends and a happy future....

Raven.

Raven is a catalyst character that seemingly appears out of nowhere. He's not some random guy. He's Ilya's "friend". Things start to get dark immediately. Karyan and Ilya don't have friends??? They only have followers and it's actually really sad??? There's a royal power struggle because both princes are strong and capable???

Karyan is kinda depressed because he has followers instead of friends. Jerry is his solace and his love seems quite innocent.

Ilya's followers are absolutely terrified of him. Jerry is in shock because remember...Ilya is the cat dad/quiet/nervous guy.

Raven is an extremely rude awakening. When Jerry chose to befriend Ilya AND Karyan he set off a huge red flag. Ilya wants Jerry to like him the most, and Ilya has freakishly strong magic. Ilya has been hiding his magic so he can attend basic classes with Jerry, but it's an open secret.

Raven tries to bully Ilya, to force him to pick one of the princes before Ilya truly goes insane

....but it's far too late.

Raven barely manages to avoid being maimed. Ilya chops an arm off, and it gets swept under the rug. Ilya is absolutely obsessed with Jerry's safety and more importantly his health. Jerry has been working on his health, that's true, but he's really only functioning because of Ilya. Ilya constantly casts stamina spells on Jerry so he can have a somewhat normal life.

The situation gets even worse when Jerry finally finds The Guide Book. Ilya is an evil boss character. There are no good endings with him.

The two options are.

- Ilya raises a revolutionary army against his brother, and he kills everyone Jerry knows.

- Ilya wipes Jerry's memory to make him "happy forever", leaving him soulless.

In the current story Ilya is still playing nice, because the plot has been twisted. Most of the original love interests no longer see Jerry in a romantic light. He has healthy relationships with everybody....including Ilya.

Jerry decides to continue pushing towards The Magic Tower Ending. He's frightened, but he doesn't believe Ilya will hurt anyone if the love route isn't activated.

He decides to distance himself from Ilya a little bit, so the love route doesn't activate. If he avoids Ilya's love route everything will be fine! Everybody can stay friends and live happily ever after!!!!!!

I'm sure you've guessed the plot twist.

Jerry has been on Ilya's route the whole time.

There was never any room for anyone else.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #How To Refuse the Route #yaoi #2024

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florestmoon · 2 years

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It’s impossible to ignore you. (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Next.

Summary: Chrissy and Eddie seem to become close after a drug deal. The feelings you kept locked up suddenly start overflowing and you become afraid of losing your best friend. You fail to realize Chrissy was helping him gain the courage to admit his feelings to you.

Warnings: Slow burn friends to lovers. Angst. Unrequited feelings (but not really). So much miscommunication/misunderstanding. Reader being an anxious mess and an over thinker. Both Eddie and reader being oblivious dumbasses.

A/N: I said I was bringing angst to the Eddie fandom and here I am. Im deciding to make this 3 parts instead of two because I wrote so much already. And I love dragging the way they are idiots. Comments and messages are so welcomed! Yell at me! Thank you for all the support (:

Word count: 7k or something

You were confident in your friendship with Eddie. The friendship was build on so much trust and years of learning each other’s quirks and habits. Confiding in each other with secrets that you wouldn’t tell another soul and insecurities that ate away at your thoughts during the night.

You both were practically each other halves. Yin and Yang. Others may have found it kinda annoying, the way you both were practically attached at hip. But no one could deny how much you complimented each other.

Many would go as far to say you were platonic soulmates, which you happily accepted at first. Until the platonic aspect begin to leave a bitter taste in your mouth. A taste you desperately ignored and whatever thoughts followed was pushed to the back of your mind because you were not going down that worm hole.

Because you were his best friend. You were the first one to force him into a friendship when he first moved to Hawkin’s, running away from his parent’s home to his uncle’s, with a toothy smile on your baby face.

You were the one to compliment his drawings he hid at first of his dnd characters and learned the game to hear him excitedly talk about it at any chance. The one to force him to tell you who had formed the bruise on his eye. The one who then proceeded to hold their packaged popsicle against it until it melted.

And he was yours. He was the one to tell you that it was okay to be sensitive despite your parents harsh words. Eddie was the one to hold you after scary nightmares when he had convinced you to watch a scary movie you definitely had no reason to watch, only to tease you once there was no more fear in your system.

He was the one that held your textbooks even if he complained the whole time between classes. Eddie was the one to make a whole show of embarrassing himself in order to make you feel comfortable. He was the only one who understood your anxious rambling at random subjects that were in your mind on that particular day.

So yeah. You were content and happy with your place in Eddie’s life as best friends. Even if your developed crush was always something you beat down every day. Because as long he was in your life, you didn’t care if platonic was forever stamped on your relationship.

You were each other’s first choices. Always. So when he had mentioned one lunch period that Chrissy was meeting up with him for a deal, you only felt surprised that the school’s cheerleading Queen was going to buy drugs. A bit amused that she was meeting with her boyfriend’s worst enemy, the “Freak” of Hawkins.

You didn’t put much thought into it until you watched him and Chrissy seem to have a prolonged eye contact moment after said deal, in your last class together that same day. The blush in his cheeks when he looked away being the final realization that oh, maybe you really weren’t okay with it at all.

“How did the deal go?” You asked a little later, over the milkshake that was being shared at the small diner that was both your favorites. With the campaign Eddie had planned for that night, it was decided to hang around town before heading back to school.

“It went fine.” He answers after taking a long sip of the strawberry shake, emptying the glass.

You groaned, “Eddie, you hog!”

He smiles innocently as you tilt the glass to stare at the loss. “Oops.”

The pout on your face was immediately knocked down when he grabs the cherry he saved for himself and places it on your napkin. You accept the trade off as he continues. “She didn’t buy anything anyway. At least not for now.”

You hum as you grab the cherry he gave you, popping it in your mouth. “How come? It took a while so figured she did buy something in the end.”

He seems to fiddle with one of his rings anxiously. “We talked a bit,” that blush was back on cheeks, “Guess it took longer than expected. But I didn’t have what she needed, so she’s coming back to my trailer after hellfire tonight.”

“Talk about what?” You ask a bit too quickly, wiping your fingers on your napkin.

“Just..stuff.” He shrugs and pushes the empty glass to the end of the table. Eddie grabs the forgotten menu, even though you both know it by heart. “Hey, you want another milkshake? Or should we ask for a cheesecake?”

Oh. The cherry tasted dull in your mouth but you chewed it regardless, ignoring the small tug on your chest at the change of demeanor. It was so small yet you noticed it. He seemed uncomfortable at the topic, as though he didn’t want to breach it.

You were quiet for a moment before realizing he was looking at you questionably, so you smiled. “Trying to get me sick so I’ll miss hellfire, and not embarrass you huh?”

“Ohhh, those are fighting words sweetheart,” he narrows his eyes and his tone darkens. “I’m not one to back down. You’ll going to wish I wasn’t dungeon master.”

The implication on his “small talk” had you reeling as he drove you both back to the highschool. What exactly did they talk about then? And why did Eddie seem embarrass? As though whatever was shared between them in the woods wasn’t something he wanted to share with you.

Eddie didn’t have to share everything with you. But he always did. So seeing him dismiss the topic so quickly, it was different.

He always would tell you about the potheads that would regard him like some god, or the way the preppy kids acted like he would curse them if they were in his space for too long.

It wasn’t a big deal. Really. But Chrissy knocking on the door to the room Hellfire had taken place in that night, calling Eddie’s name had you feeling small suddenly. You, Gareth, and Eddie had been putting all the chairs back after the exciting game Erica had concluded with her lucky roll, when she walked in hesitantly.

Eddie jumped up from jamming his stuff in his backpack to greet her.

“Sorry, it ran a little longer than usual.” He states. “But we could head out now. You got your stuff, bug ?” Eddie looks towards you where you were zipping up your backpack. The idea of being in the same van as them together had you feeling uneasy suddenly.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to see any interaction that would make your anxious thoughts worse. Your eyes shift towards Gareth and your mouth spoke before you could think, “oh I can’t. Gareth had invited me for pizza tonight.”

“I did?” Gareth head jerks up from where he was, hand on the door knob ready to leave the room.

“He did?” Eddie sharply accuses at the same time, turning towards Garth who was staring between you both with wide eyes. His mouth hanging open, looking at you confused. You stared wide eyed back at him and nod quickly, pushing yourself towards the brunette.

“Ha! yeah he did, I totally forgot to tell you Eddie!” You shove Gareth a little too hard out into the hallway, out of sight before he could protest and expose your lie. Pretending like you didn’t hear the sound of him slamming against a locker.

“He only invited you?” Eddie voice was a bit tight, he pauses and coughs, “I mean, why not invite the rest of us?”

You felt bad realizing that your get away was going to make Eddie excluded. “Well, I mean, you have to take Chrissy right?”

Eddie blinks like he forgot she was there. “Well yeah but-“

“So it’s fine! He’ll take me home, don’t worry Eddie.”

“Right..” he mumbles, noticing Chrissy smiling at him before perking up, “You better bring me a slice yeah? Or else you’ll walking to school in the morning.”

You roll your eyes, nodding before he could try to mess with your hair and push yourself to leave them alone in the room.

You tried not to watch them leave the school together as you sat in Gareth’s car, recognizing the ugly emotion that washed over you in waves.

—

A part of you secretly hoped that would be the end of it. That Chrissy would buy whatever drug she needed, realize it isn’t her thing and they didn’t need to interact anymore. It wasn’t because you were jealous, something you repeated in the mirror a hundred times the night before, but for a normal reason.

Chrissy had a boyfriend. Jason who despised your best friend, so it wouldn’t be good for Eddie too continue to deal with her. She was just acting out, and that would be it. That’s all, right? No more ugly emotions.

“—and then he got mad because someone mentioned Chrissy.” Lucas explains during lunch as you kept glancing towards the double doors for Eddie’s late presence. “He cancelled practice for this week. It was stupid.”

“Didn’t you hear? .” Dustin chimes in with a mouth full of pudding. You would have scolded him for it if it weren’t for his next words, “He got dumped.”

“What?” You tore your gaze away from the doors, “Chrissy and Jason broke up?”

“Yeah. Apparently she asked for a break.”

“And how do you know this Dustin?” Luke leans forward from the end of the table to stare at his best friend.

“I know everything.” He smiles sweetly raising his eyebrows which forces Mike to snort with a small yeah sure which he takes offense to. “At least it was face to face, unlike El’s break up letter.”

“Why would mention that dude ?” Mike hurt voice drowns out while you stare at Eddie’s empty seat.

That sinking feeling in your stomach was back.

Eddie had arrived eventually, a hand grasped onto Gareth’s shoulder who seemed a bit tense to whatever Eddie was chatting away about. He looked really happy , a bump on his step as he made way towards the table and plopped down on his seat next to you. His smile so big that deep down you had a feeling that Chrissy had to do with it.

Of course. Who are you to completely stop that? She was single and just a few minutes during a deal had made Eddie head over heels for her.

One of your mozzarella sticks disappeared off your tray before he places his elbows on the table and tears it in half. “Hey, do you think Steve is working today ?”

You pushed away your thoughts once more. Eying the cheesy string between the two pieces before shrugging. “Uh no? I think Robin mentioned closing alone tonight. Something about Steve calling out for a date.”

“Ah, King Steve in action once again,” he rolls his eyes before popping one piece in his mouth, “Still good for me, I was going to stop by and didn’t want him to be on my ass for late fees.”

“Eddie you really need to stop losing the dvds,” you scold, grabbing your juice and handing it to him once you notice him eying it. “At this point we’ll be banned.”

“Hey, we both can’t get banned-“

“I also have late fees because of you begging Robin to use it under my name the last time.”

“It’s not my fault she’s so easy to convince ” He grins, “anyway, that’s good to hear, I was hoping to see her to rent a couple movies after school.”

“For what?” You ask, looking down at your tray. “Planning for a movie night?”

“Mhmm,” he hums happily, looking at you expectedly. “For a special girl.”

God, you felt pathetic for the way your smile was wiped off your lips. Your eyes stayed glued to your tray, your right hand coming up to scratch your neck in an attempt to hide your expression. “Oh cool…”

He was planning a movie date. Was it for Chrissy? It had to be, why else would he say it like that. The lunch food was beginning to disagree with your stomach. You pushed the tray away softly before looking up at him once you fought off a frown.

There was a frown tugging on his lips though, watching you carefully. He seemed, hesitant to say anything at first which made you feel worse. Is it really noticeable how uncomfortable you were ? You were ruining the good mood he was in.

“You okay?” He finally asks softly. One of hands reaching out under to table and brushing against yours. You force a smile once more, nodding before making show of holding your stomach.

“Sorry, I have a really bad stomach ache.” you laugh pathetically, “I think I need to go straight home after school” Instead of accompanying you to picking out whatever movie you have planned for Chrissy.

Eddie seems dejected but he nods. “Do you want me to take you to the nurse? I can carry you bridal style.” He attempts to joke but you only shake your head.

“No it’s fine.” The bell rings and you stand up a bit too fast for someone who was complaining about a stomach ache, “I’ll just get though it.”

You barely give him time to respond as you grab your tray ,”I’ll see you after class.”

—

He drove you straight home after school, the van mostly quiet for most of the ride as you allow yourself to go over your thoughts once again. Eddie tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing over you every so often before finally deciding to reach into his compartment and take out a cassette tape.

A few seconds later, your favorite band was playing through his speakers and you smiled. Eddie’s singing voice bringing you out of your funk for a few minutes as he sung along to the chorus, head banging despite it not matching the beat. Your laugh filling the van along with the music when he accidentally swerves the van after he looked away a little too long to sing to you.

For now, you’ll let yourself forget about whatever Eddie and Chrissy had going on.

It didn’t last long. Because as a week went by and Eddie began missing some lunches, and even a class period, you find out through Dustin that he caught Eddie meeting up with Chrissy.

Now it was clear they at least had a friendship going on. It really wasn’t your place to say anything.

Special girl. It rang in your head when you noticed Eddie keep glancing towards where she sat across the cafeteria. At first you ignored it, convincing yourself for a short time it was okay. But Eddie began to act different. Whenever you both would talk and joke, you would catch him glancing towards Chrissy. It hurt to see him so distracted while even with you, so you began to speak less and less.

Chrissy was special. Chrissy, the girl who everyone loved at Hawkins for her looks and skills in cheerleading. The blonde not only was really pretty and was the ideal image of what a perfect girl is, she also was really sweet. So you couldn’t even be mad at Eddie for his choice.

Anyone would want to date her and they would be considered lucky. So really, you should be happy for your best friend. Even if you felt annoyed from waiting after school, 20 minutes and most of the parking lot empty save the kids attending detention, and you see them both exit the building together.

They seem to be in deep discussion about something, before Chrissy placed her hand on his shoulder, saying something that had Eddie attention completely on her. You looked away from the sight, gripping onto your textbook on your lap.

A minute later he was standing next to you with an apologetic expression. “Shit, I’m really sorry bug. Ms. O’Donnell had me staying after to make up for being late to class.”

You smile tightly, because that’s all you been doing since this started, faking your smiles. “Right.” You get up from your seat on the bench and brush past him towards his van. He follows close behind, tugging on your backpack to signal to let him carry it but you ignore him, brushing his hand off and pulling it against your shoulder.

Eddie frowns at that and doesn’t unlock the door when you pull on the handle. “I said I was sorry y/n.” He whines, pouting and trying to wrap his arms around you but you pull away once again.

“Yeah I heard Eddie,” you sigh as you look at him, your annoyance growing at the confused look in his face. It pushed you to speak again before thinking clearly.

Word vomit. You had learned that phrase from Robin. “I guess you and Chrissy were both late huh?”

Eddie blinks taken back, looking towards where Chrissy had walked off to meet up with other cheerleaders. “Oh- that.” He clears his throat and rubs at his neck. “No, I bumped into her right after O’Donnell let me off.”

“Talked for a bit too?” Shut up. Why do you keep talking?! You screamed in your head.

“I just had something quick to ask her.” You looked at him raising an eyebrow, waiting and hoping that he would finally tell you what they had going on. But again, Eddie blushes, not looking at you and you realized he rather keep it from you then tell you. “It was stupid, like uh, about homework. ”

You felt done with the conversation, nodding and pulled on the handle again. “Cool, can you open the door now?”

“Come onnn y/n, don’t be like that-“

“Eddie you had me waiting in this heat“ you huff, crossing your arms and glaring at him. “I just want to go home and take off these sweaty clothes. Please.”

Eddie pauses and seems to think before suddenly dropping on his knees. You gasp and step back as he puts his hands together and shakes his head.

“I’m ashamed of myself. I am y/n. I failed you, something I can never forgive myself for.” He begins, shaking his head dramatically. You drop your bag and pull on his arm trying to make him stop.

“Eddie seriously!”

A few lingering students were staring. “Please. I’ll do anything for your forgiveness your highness. I’ll buy you some donuts, or even that horrible Tears for Fears album you dare call music.”

“You ass-“

“I’ll shave my head!” He whines dramatically, “just for you to look at me again.”

“Oh god” you laugh, unable to stop a real smile to appear and succeed in pulling him to his feet again. “Please don’t. I don’t think I’ll survive another buzz cut.”

Eddie smiles dusting off his knees and bending down to grab your bag, throwing over his shoulder. “So?”

“I forgive you,” you roll your eyes, watching him sigh relieved and hold his chest. He unlocks the door this time and lets you climb in.

“Cant even let me be mad for more than 5 minutes.” you mumbled when he throws both your belongings to the back and gets in. He starts the car, pointing at your seatbelt in warning, waiting to hear it click in place before driving out of the school’s parking lot. “Maybe I wanted to ignore you the whole car ride”

“I don’t think I could survive that” he teases, but there was truth in it. He looks towards you, his gaze softening. “You sure you’re not mad anymore?”

“Yeah, it’s fine Eddie.” Your smile was small as you look out the window. You really weren’t mad. His antics was enough for you to brush off your jealousy. Eddie was your best friend. You shouldn’t be acting this way anyway. You just needed time to get your feelings in check.

It doesn’t seem like Eddie is convinced because he sighs. You turn to look at him.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That” He waves his hand over you before looking at the road. “I don’t know. Off. You smile but it doesn’t even seem..” he struggles before snapping his fingers. “It’s not you.”

Shit. He’s noticing. You rub the side of your face and shake your head. “Really Eddie, it’s nothing.”

“Is it? You seemed off all week.” You flinch at that, wanting to sink into the seat. He really was noticing, will he eventually connect two and two together? What if he figures out your feelings that you hid for so long.

No you couldn’t let that happen.

“I haven’t been feeling my best Eds” You make sure to keep your voice steady, trying to be believable. “I guess, I just been stressed. With the way things are changing..”

That part was true.

“What do you mean?”

“With finals coming up, and graduation just two months away.” You play with the end of your hair ignoring his gaze. “I guess it finally just got to me. You know me and my anxiety.”

You smile pathetically and Eddie slumps back in his seat. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it before ?”

“You seemed..distracted..” That also was true. Really you were giving half truths so you didn’t feel too horrible for lying to him. “But really, I’ll get over it.”

Eddie reaches out and grabs your hand, shaking his head. “Distracted? What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing.” Eddie sighs but lets it pass.

“Don’t be hiding that shit from me anymore. Alright? You know I hate when you get into your head. Talk to me, okay?”

You nod, squeezing his hand back and play with his rings, pushing back your feelings. “Okay. Promise.”

—

The next few days were better. Sure, you saw him talking to Chrissy once between classes. But after Eddie had forced you to sleepover his trailer that day you half confessed in his van, and watched movies with you all night and made you hot chocolate, you felt safe to say it didn’t hurt that much.

You can accept it. You were still an important part in his life and he in yours. You shouldn’t be so selfish to wish for more. It was okay.

You were studying for your math quiz when your bedroom phone rang. You quickly scribbled down an answer before you forgot it, and reached over to the nightstand next to your bed.

“Hello?”

“Hey bug.”

You smile and lay back on your pillow, grabbing the base of the phone to place on the bed while you twirled the cord between your finger. “Don’t tell me you want me to give you the answers? Did you even try to solve one of the problems.”

“No I just..” he pauses. You mirror that by freezing with the cord around your finger. “Wanted to talk. Wanted to talk to you, you know?”

There wasn’t a blush on your cheeks at the gentleness in the way he said you. You change your position the bed to lay on your stomach, frowning. “Eddie? Is something wrong?”

He stays quiet. You can hear one of the records you gave him softly playing in the background.

“You know you can talk to me.” Please talk to me. Don’t push me aside. “Remember what you told me, last week, that we don’t hide anything.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right.” He sighs and there’s some shuffling on his side. “This is just..really hard to say. It’s..different than what we usually talk about.”

Uneasiness swirls in your stomach. “What do you mean?” He doesn’t reply right away so you backtrack. “I mean that shouldn’t matter. We told each other so much already, I’m sure this isn’t much different Eds.”

“You won’t..freak, right? No matter what.”

Your throat tightens. That tightening feeling appears in your chest. You clear your throat in fear that your voice will break. “Y-yeah, I won’t. Try me.”

“Okay..” He coughs then sighs. “Okay. Okay, so..” he struggles before finally speaking. “There’s someone that I really like.”

You thought you were prepared. Part of you was relieved that after keeping it from you for so long, he finally confided in you. That should be good, right? Your worries that he didn’t have that trust in you evaporated, all that anxiety was proven wrong. Yet, the other part of you that you thought was going to fine and under control, broke.

“Oh wow,” you let out breathlessly, “You were scared to tell me that?” You push the back of your hand against one of your eyes once you feel the tears building. “Why are you worried about that.”

“Y/N- it’s, it’s just...” He whispers, “I been too stupid to realize my feelings and I’ve been wanting to ask her out for a few weeks now. But I can never figure out how she feels about me..”

His voice was shaky. “I’m terrified she won’t feel the same way if I tell her. Because y-“ he coughs, “she’s so amazing and perfect, and I guess I’m really scared you know? What if I’m not enough? I wouldn’t blame her for thinking so.”

Your heart hurts not only knowing he’s referencing to Chrissy but knowing that he didn’t feel good enough. How could he even think like that? Eddie was someone you looked up too. His ways of drawing attention towards him with his dramatic speeches and overall personality was admirable. So hearing him sound so small, dejected at the idea had you pushing your own hurt aside.

“Eddie. Anyone would be lucky to have you. This girl, god she would be so fucking lucky to have you as her boyfriend.” You stare at your ceiling, hand gripping the phone tightly. “You’re so much more than good enough. You’re sweet and funny, and, and I know she will be the happiest girl with you. Anyone would.”

I would. The voice whispers in the back of your head.

“You really think that?” Eddie asks, in awe. You nod forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course, Eddie. You’re the most amazing person I know.” Eddie stays silent. You notice how fast your heart was beating.

“Thank you bug,” you swore you thought you heard a sniffle. “I..that made me feel better. You don’t understand how much.”

You both stay silent. You were waiting for him to drop that it was Chrissy. Go into more details about her but he continues to not talk. So you decide to rip the bandaid yourself.

“So, when are you asking the special girl?” You force your voice to sound excited, shutting your eyes tight. “I better not have gave that speech for nothing.”

“Actually, I was thinking about doing it tonight.” he trails off. You felt like you were going to vomit.

“Good! I-I hope it goes great, Ed. I’m rooting for you, and..I know she’ll say yes.” Your hands began to shake. It felt harder to breath. You thought you were able to handle it but no, you feel yourself falling apart.

You needed to end the call before he hears you break down.

“Y/N..I wanted- I was going to ask you-“ You cut him off once you feel a single tear slip down the corner of your face. A few more tears follow as you shake your head.

“Eddie I-I’m sorry I need to go.” You slam the phone shut and pull your pillow over your face. Hoping it’s enough to pause your tears but it didn’t. A sob is muffled by it instead.

You weren’t going to be okay after all.

—

You spend the rest of the night staring blankly at your homework before deciding you were not accomplishing anything but staining the sheet with a few escaped tears. You turned off all the lights and tried to sleep, trying to come up with an excuse as to why you hung up. You didn’t think clearly.

You could say you felt sick again and had to throw up, or that your heart was ripped out of your chest and you felt like you were dying.

The former was better. At least it was believable and didn’t need anymore questions.

You left the following morning earlier than usual. Deciding to take the bus that you seen Max always hop on. Eddie had tried giving her a ride before but she only quietly rejected it and often left earlier than you both did.

You sat next to her on the bus, headphones blaring Kate Bush voice. She glanced at you, raising an eyebrow.

“You look like shit.” Her headphones were pushed down to wrap around her neck.

“Thanks.” You reply, crossing your arms over your stomach and turning your head towards her smiling softly. “And you look amazing like always Max.”

She shrugs, turning her nose away as she glanced out the window towards the trailer park that was disappearing from sight. “Did you and Eddie fight?”

“No.” You feel sick again at the mention of his name. “I wanted to go early and didn’t want to wake him up. He’s grumpy when I do.”

“Righht..” she turns towards you again. “Eddie definitely is anything but grumpy with you.” She makes a disgusted expression before pulling her headphones back on top of her head. The volume increasing this time.

Well damn. You were hoping the younger girl would make more of a conversations with you. Maybe you should try a little harder with her the way you had with the other freshman, but push that for another day. You allow to swallow in self pity the rest of the bus ride.

The rest of the morning was a blur. Eddie had looked for you when he arrived a few minutes before school started, nearly disrupting your first class when he pushed the door open a second before the bell rung. Eyes set on where you sat in the back but was quickly yelled at by your math teacher.

“Eddie Munson! This is not where you’re suppose to be-“

“I need to see y/n,-“

“You can see her later. Out! Now!”

You hid your face behind your notebook, guilt eating at you as you could feel him staring at you before he was escorted out.

Your plan was to avoid him that morning, needing just a little bit more time. Then prepare to see him at lunch and hear all about what occurred with his confession the night before. You were going to sit there, at the lunch table, apologize for hanging up and ditching that morning, then make it up by listening to him talk about how Chrissy accepted his confession. And you will smile through it all, and support him.

You could do that.

But when you walked out your history class for lunch, and Eddie was waiting right across the hallway, your mind blanked.

“Seriously. What the fuck y/n.” He began, pushing himself away from where he was leaning against the locker. You began to walk down the hallway. “Jesus Christ! Really? Where are you going?”

“Eddie I have to meet up..” you think quickly, “with Nancy! Yeah, Nancy wants my opinion on some shots she took of the basketball game.”

“Nancy Wheeler? Mikes sister?” He questions, walking beside you and matching your fast pace. “Since when were you two friends?”

“She’s friends with Robin. So that makes us acquaintances” you reply, staring ahead.

He throws his hands up in the air and scoffs. “Okay. Okay fine. Are you just not going to tell me why you hung up on me yesterday? And ignored my calls after?” He grabs your arm and stops your walking. “Or even why I went to your trailer for your mom to tell me you had left early to school? What’s up with that?”

“Had to talk to my teacher about my final grades, and I knew coming early was the best option.” It was such a shitty and not well thought out lie. “Didn’t want to wake you up, especially after last night.”

Eddie’s grip loosens and his expression falters. The anger flowing into something you couldn’t recognize. He pulls away and stuffs his hands into his leather jacket. “Last night..” he sounds sad, “are..are you even going to ask about that?”

“About what?” You don’t look at him. You weren’t ready yet.

“About what we talked about.” Eddie says desperately. “Come on y/n. I told you it was something I was afraid to talk about, and you go hang up on before I could even..” he stops and rubs his face.

“I wasn’t feeling well. Ha , it’s weird. It just hit me, I thought I was going to throw up-“

“Bullshit.” He hisses, pointing his finger at you. “That’s such bullshit.” You step back surprised by his outburst. He looked outright angry.

“Eddie-“

“You keep saying all these lies. I’m not an idiot. And then you go and ignore me all morning. What the fuck did I do? Did I..did I do something?” He asks.

“No Eddie, you didn’t.”

“Then why are you acting like this right now? Christ, I don’t understand !” He yells, throwing his hand out.

“Let’s talk about it later, yeah?” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed.It wasn’t suppose to go this way. You had it all planned out and now it’s getting out of control.

“Why later? Why not now?”

“I just don’t want to right now, okay?” You pull away, seeing your escape and make way to the bathroom. Eddie following close behind. “I’m still not feeling well. So, just..we can talk about it after school.”

“I don’t fucking get this. Why are you acting like this.?”

You push yourself into the bathroom. Slamming the door shut before he could even think to follow you in. “Eddie please ! I’ll meet you in the cafeteria, okay?”

“I thought you were meeting with Nancy.” He states from the other side of the door. “See I knew you were fucking lying.”

You don’t say anything else. Back pressed against the door as you wait.

“Y/N please..” you hear him beg quietly, “I really can’t handle this from you. Not right now. Especially after last night..”

You frown at this. What does he mean by that?

“I need you.” His voice was small. You wanted to open the door and slam against his chest, hugging him the way you always do when you both were suffering from bad thoughts.

But this was so much different. All your ugly insecurities and jealousy powers through any rationality right now.

So you say nothing. Despite the confusion at his statement. You hear Eddie sharp intake of a breathe once he realizes this before you hear his knuckles tap on the wall, a quiet “fuck this”, then his footsteps receding.

—

You stayed in the bathroom all lunch. Pathetically allowing your thoughts to overflow and beating yourself up for not being able to act normal. Your mind was reeling, not allowing you to focus on your other classes.

School ended and you walked out to see that Eddie’s van was gone. You didn’t even know if he had stayed in school after he walked away from the bathroom.

You sat next to Max again. She didn’t say anything at first, until the bus was halfway to your destination. It seemed like your own silent treatment had annoyed her enough to rip the headphones from her ears.

“I can literally feel your sadness rub off on me and it’s annoying.” She narrows her eyes at you. You sigh and tilt your head at her.

“That’s not even possible.” You mumble, not hiding the sadness in your voice. She takes note of this and finally resigns.

“Okay. Just tell me what’s going on with you and Eddie.”

“Nothings going on.”

“Dustin was complaining to me about how he hadn’t made it to lunch despite needing to go over the last campaign. And you’re here, unfortunately . So..” she shakes her head, “it’s pretty clear.”

You groan and slam your head back onto the bus seat. “Okay fine. I’ve just..” you pause and play with your fingers. “He and Chrissy has a thing..”

“Chrissy Cunningham??”

“Yeah I know.” You laugh, “these past few weeks, they been hanging and he has been acting weird. And..I guess he likes her.”

“Oh okay. This makes so much more sense.” She states, sitting up. “You’re jealous.”

“Yeah.” You finally admit. “Really jealous. But I can’t do anything. Because who am I to do so? We’re best friends and I’m acting like a fucking jerk.”

“He asked Chrissy out yesterday,” you continue, “he called me before hand and was telling me about his feelings for her and how he planned to tell her. And I..freaked out and hung up. Then avoided him today. And I know he’s mad but I just can’t face it Max. I don’t want to hear about their relationship because it hurts. So much.”

Max usual nonchalant front faded into a concerned expression. She listened to you.

“He said he needed me and god, he wouldn’t do this to me if I were crushing on some other person. He would be happy and would be excited to hear me talk about it because he doesn’t like me the way I like him..I really am a horrible friend. Aren’t I?”

You felt pathetically for ranting to a 15 year old but when Max simply shook her head and said, “No. it’s okay to feel hurt by this.” You felt a bit relieved before she continued. “But maybe you should talk to him about it. I don’t know, you’ll get used to it. Don’t break a friendship over it, he’ll understand.”

“I don’t think I can tell him though..”

“Then don’t, idiot. But you can’t ignore him forever. I’m sure he’s really confused by all of it and doesn’t know what to do. He’s stupid that way.”

You snort.

“And it probably is hurting him. I can see the way he cares about you.” She says honestly, furrowing her eyebrows like a thought crossed her mind but she doesn’t mention it.

You nod, feeling a bit embarrassed but better. She was right. It’ll take time to get over this hurt but you can’t allow for it to ruin what you and Eddie had. Eddie’s reaction was clear enough for you to see you were being selfish.

It didn’t matter if it hurt. You couldn’t allow it to overshadow what you and Eddie already build.

“Thanks Max.”

“Whatever.”

You walked her to her trailer once the bus driver drops you both off, hugging her and enjoying the way she smiled shyly before she pushed you away and ran in her trailer.

Eddie’s van was parked in front of his trailer. So you had no other option but to take your time walking across the dirt trail and step up to the door.

I need you.

You knock on the door, the small pattern that only you and Eddie knew coming as second nature, and waited.

The door opened and Wayne appeared.

“Oh hey kid.” He says, glancing inside the trailer for a moment before looking back at you. “I’m guessing you and Eddie fought?”

“Was it that obvious?” You grimace, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater.

“Just a little. No other person can get Eddie to be slamming that door shut and blasting his music like you.” He says with humor, stepping back and opening the door wider for you to enter. You ignore the small comment and follow him inside. “But I’m glad you’re here. I really need to get some sleep so if you could..”

You nod quickly, giving a small apology before walking towards his room. The vibration of the heavy guitar solo could be felt in the hallway. The beat thrashing against your eardrums when you push the door open.

Eddie was sitting up with his back pressed against the metal bars that made up the headboard of his bed. Guitar in hand as his fingers moved effortlessly against the strings. Eyes shut as he had his head tilted towards the ceiling. You wait to see if he’ll notice that the door opened but he continued playing.

You build up the courage to speak. “Eddie.”

You didn’t think he would be able to hear you but the song came to a stop, eyes snapping open as he turns his head over to you.

“Y/N?” He puts the guitar down. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you. And your uncle let me in.” You explain, moving towards his bed and sitting on the edge. “He probably would have left me out there if it wasn’t for him wanting to get some sleep.”

“You know he would let you in no matter what.”

“I know.”

He watches you, fingers twirling one of the rings in circles in his other hand. Sadness evident in his eyes, uncertainty mixed with it as he switched his gaze from between your eyes. Waiting.

“Look Eddie, I’m really sorry”

“You been saying that.” He replies.

“No but..” you stand up and rub your hands against your thighs. “I’ve been such an ass.” You hold your finger up before he could say anything, “and I’ve been acting like a shitty friend. And I know you’re confused and have asked me to be honest, but..”

You look at some of his posters. “I am honest about my anxiety being part of the problem. I’ve been struggling right now, dealing with feelings I don’t want to.” You swallow, pushing on. “And I guess I’m just afraid. Of stupid stuff that doesn’t matter and shouldn’t have. And I took it out on you and that’s not right.”

“So, it wasn’t because of me? I thought I was doing something wrong this whole time.” Eddie watches you pace back and forth.

Yes.

“No.” You bite your lip and hug yourself.

“Then what was it?” He frowns, “I mean. Why didn’t you just come to me? You promised. I told you to talk to me about it all.”

“I know Eddie. I know. Really. It was just all me and my overthinking. And I’m really really sorry and-“

“Bug, I understand.”

“No , I’ve been horrible!” You frown and plop down on the bed beside him, covering your face. “I’m really truly sorry. I promise you I’ll stop being ..how I am.”

“I like the way you are. Christ y/n.” He pushes your hands away from your face and forces you to sit up, grabbing your shoulders. “I wasn’t mad at you because of that, I was just mad that you been pushing me away. I was mad not knowing whether I..I was the reason.”

“It wasn’t you Eddie. I promise.”

He nods, shoulder sagging from relief before he grins. “You know, it’s weird not having you ranting into my ear 24/7 about what’s bothering you. I hate when you get all quiet.”

You watch him, pouting and he pushes at your cheek. His hand cupping your cheek and you ignore the warmth is spreads across your chest. “I’m sorry for screaming at you earlier and not being there after school. That was not cool.”

“No, I deserved it.” You glance down and play with the chain attached to his pants. “I wasn’t listening to you about last night.”

Eddie tenses. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“No we can!” You’re able to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest. The pit in your stomach wasn’t that big either. It felt somewhat okay. “What else were you going tell me? How did it go?”

“Nothing happened. I never got to ask.” He wasn’t looking at you.

You falter, confused. “What? I thought..”

Eddie clears his throat and stands up, grabbing his guitar and hanging it up in its place in front of his mirror. “Yeah, I totally chickened out. It doesn’t matter now.”

“It..it doesn’t?” You asked, feeling even more stupid now. No wonder he was so angry at you for ignoring him. He needed more support, encouragement and you weren’t there to give it. “Shit, Eddie. I really am sorry for hanging up.”

“It’s fine, really.“ He taps his fingers on his chin, still not looking at you. “Besides..I have a better idea.”

“Uh..” you begs to ask before Eddie suddenly bends down and grabs your waist and throws you over your shoulder as you scream in surprise. “-the fuck!”

“We are going to celebrate us surviving our first real fight!” He grins, conversation forgotten as he attempts to grab his denim vest and wallet with out dropping you. Your wiggling makes it hard but he manages to do it.

“And how are we going to that?” You giggle, relieved at the familiarly of your dynamic with Eddie. It was feeling okay again.

“We are going to get a milkshake.” He smiles and proceeds to carry you out of his room on his shoulder. A small bang echoing from your head hitting the door frame and your groan following it. “..And painkillers.”

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4 #eddien munson angst #reader you dumbass

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enchantedbarnes · 5 months

Text

Recommendations 💖

I've been wanting to do something with recommendations for ages now, but there's just too many to even know where to begin! Here's a chaos list of past and present faves 🥰

Completed fics

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Lumpy and Bunny masterlist by @sweetdreamsbuck

Pairing: beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

Sweet and Sour by @sashaisready

Pairing: Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

Summary: You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

While you're over there you might as well check out ...

Under the Radar by @sashaisready

Pairing: Nick Fowler x reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

The Thrill of the Hunt by @rookthorne

Pairing: Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon – it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other. It was there that you found your match. Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired. And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

The Lookout by @mymoonagedaydream

Pairing: ParkRanger!Bucky x y/n

Summary: It was amazing, really, how quickly one person managed to turn your dream job into a living nightmare.

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad.

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together by @golden-barnes

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Pairing: Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Summary: Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Classylo's masterlist

home for the holidays by @classylo

When your family begs you to come home for the holidays and to bring the new guy you’ve been seeing, you don’t have the heart to tell them your good-for-nothing-ex cheated on you… good thing your roommate is available and will do absolutely anything you ask.

should've been you by @classylo

He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Moral of the Story by @justkending

Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, a tragic and heartbreaking divorce, the two now despise the other for how the whole thing was handled. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Everest by @justkending

Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and the battle of a lifetime, she called it quits and distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep, not leaving much room for a no… Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Coming in Hot by @nexusnyx

When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be. Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem. Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

Pairing: Mechanic Bucky x Reader

Though I Have Never Read by @tuiccim

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You had run away from all of your problems and found solitude in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. When a storm blows in, it drags a man with a metal arm through your door. Offering shelter, you spend one night together before he disappears. Years later, you find yourselves together again but does he remember that night or you at all?

Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

teach me how to love by @buckyismybicycle

Pairing: DAD!BUCKY X TEACHER!READER

Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her.

Sweet by @noceurous

summary: it was something cliche but your fuck buddy fell for you nonetheless, even though you swore you would never do relationships again. But rules are meant to be broken.

call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: when you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.

Part 1 & Part 2

Grow Old With Me by @sonderosa

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

...you could wait fifty years if he asked it of you. You’d promised him that, and he’d smiled and kissed you, told you that in fifty years he wanted to be old with you, sitting on a porch in rocking chairs and watching the sunset. You wanted that, too; it was a beautiful dream.

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader Summary: It's your first international trip working for bestselling author Tony Stark as his new personal assistant, and you're desperate to prove yourself worthy of such an incredible opportunity. But when things start to go wrong whilst staying in Dublin, and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains with a flat tire, you're convinced that you'll be fired before the day is over. Luckily, a handsome, blue-eyed mechanic with an accent that makes your insides melt comes just in time to save the day.

Sweeter Than Honey by @foreverindreamlandd

Their other series are also *chefs kiss* -> go read the rest of @foreverindreamlandd's series

Love at First Grade by @buckysimp101

Pairing: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Summary: When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

Teacher's Favorite AU by @suitk0via

Pairing: Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

Summary: You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The Heart is a Deep Ocean by @dreamlessinparis

Summary: Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Something Domestic by @fandoms-writings

Summary: Needing an escape from the loud and busy city life, Bucky comes to stay with you on your little farm. He didn’t expect you, a hardworking and beautiful woman with struggles of your own, to take his breath away and make life a little less dreary.

Labyrinth by @frostironfudge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

nostalgia for the new by @real-jane

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader shield agent

summary: bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.

Ongoing fics

Honey Girl by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pairing: Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Summary: The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

After all those years by @ziawbarnes

Pairing: AU Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Peggy and Steve's wedding in Mexico takes an unexpected turn when you and Bucky, who initially couldn't attend, end up joining the celebration. With no available rooms, Bucky becomes your roommate for ten days, leading to unexpected adventures and new connections.

Fresh Start by @nicoline1998enilocin (on hiatus but I love)

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: In this universe you can explore the story between Bucky Barnes as a middle school teacher, and Y/N with her son Luca. They just moved to the other side of the country, and have decided to completely start over their lives. On the first day at his new school, Luca quickly befriends his new teacher, and Y/N can't help but take a liking to him as well.

A Past Encounter by @majesty-madness

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to the 1940's, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Neighbors by @writerlyhabits

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: You get to know your neighbor across the hall, James.

Unexpected by @repressedqueen

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Summary: After a crazy night out celebrating your birthday, somehow you ended up outside a brothel debating on whether it was time for you to finally have sex or not.

My Little Love by @crazyunsexycool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Fem! Reader

Dr. Feelgood by @endless-summer-soldier

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

Pairing: Teacher!Reader x Single Dad!Bucky

Untitled Single Dad!Bucky Fic by @angie-likes-to-art

Summary: You made a promise to yourself to not sleep with any parents before starting teaching, little did you know the guy you slept with two days before is the dad of your cutest student.

Too much love to choose from, here's some creators with masterlists you need to check out! ❤️‍🔥

@navybrat817

@jobean12-blog

@coffeecatsandcandles

@metalbuckaroo

@wkemeup

@nickfowlerrr

I love and appreciate all of you 💕 thank you for all your hard work 🥰

Happy Reading!

(Dividers by saradika)

RECOMMENDATION LIST #2 CAN BE FOUND -> **HERE**

#fic recs #fic recommendations #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #my recs

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ahonice · 11 months

Text

lucky; pt.2

part one

luke hughes x fem reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings: cursing, drinking, implications of sex/sexual jokes & situations, slight hate towards business majors, probably definitely incorrect knowledge about pre med shit.

note: since so many people asked for a part two (literally only fifteen but still) i finally got over the grudge i have against series/part twos and i'm here to relieve you all. this is the opposite of planned out, i am writing this as i go along so i hope it doesn’t suck too badly (actually scared no one will like this because of how much love part one got). anyways enjoy, leave feedback, have a great day, love y’all babes <3

italics are flashbacks

+++

you and luke didn’t arrive back at the house until past midnight. neither of you expected anyone to be awake when you entered through the front door, but the sound of multiple voices proved that theory to be wrong.

“i think my brother’s friends got here a little earlier than we anticipated.” luke told you as he opened the door, going unnoticed by the small crowd in the living room. “let’s just get to my room and go to sleep, we need some rest.” you nodded at luke’s words as he moved himself behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, you knew he was subconsciously attempting to protect you from the group of guys, more specifically his brothers.

we didn’t make it far though, only a few moments later a voice called out at luke, causing everyone else to focus their attention on us. sighing, luke let go of you and moved forward to greet everybody, muttering an apology as he passed by you.

you stood there awkwardly, trying to decide if you should wait for luke to finish with his tiny game of catch up or if you should just go up into his room and wait for him there. after what happened today luke asked his mother if the two of you could stay in the same room today, she agreed after a little bit of begging on luke’s behalf. before you could make your own decision the room’s attention was no longer on luke.

“who is the girl luke?”

your head shot up at the mention of you, instantly becoming a bit self conscious because of the number of eyes on you. you made eye contact with quinn for a split second before tears started to build up again, seeing him just reminded you of everything that you had been through in the past twenty four hours.

“that’s my girlfriend, y/n.” luke said, making his way back to your side and attempting to block you from the eyes that were visibly making you uncomfortable. “-and if you don’t mind we would like to get to bed, it’s been a long day. you can all be properly introduced in the morning.” without letting anybody else get a word in, he turned around and guided you up to his room with his hands around your waist.

+++

you woke relatively early, the sun was just beginning to rise so you took this as your opportunity to go outside and spend some time on your own, you needed it. it took a little bit to get luke’s death grip on you loose enough for you to wiggle out of bed, but after you were successfully free you grabbed one of his hoodies to throw on over your pjs and pulled your hair out of your face with a claw clip.

you silently made your way out of the house and took a seat out on the dock, taking a quick picture of the view as the sky turned shades of pink and orange. you dipped your feet into the water before grabbing your journal, deciding it was best to write your feelings down on paper just for your better understanding of everything that has happened.

as you finished up your journal entry you noticed the sun was now peaking over the tree line, you took a picture of the view, as well as a picture of your legs with your feet in the water and the pink journal in your lap. you opened up instagram and put all the pictures you took this morning and posted them to your private instagram account, captioning it “yesterday was one of the worst days of my life, can only hope today and each day after will be better.”

you spent a few more minutes in silence, enjoying the fresh air you were getting. your trance was broken by the sound of footsteps on the dock.

“hey dear, what are you doing up so early?” you turned around to look at the man speaking.

“hi jim.” you smiled as he sat down next to you. “i’m just spending some time outside. i felt like i needed some fresh air.”

jim nodded before speaking, “i’m sorry about everything. i had no idea any of this was going on, and i am sorry that i didn’t pick up on it earlier.”

“it’s okay, don’t feel bad for not noticing it earlier. i should’ve spoken up when it first started happening.” you told him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“would you like to join me and ellen today? we’re just running some errands but it could be fun, help you escape the sausage party that has become the lake house.” jim offered, causing you to laugh at his use of the phrase “sausage party”.

“yeah i would love to.”

+++

you had gotten ready for the day without waking up your boyfriend, so you decided to continue to let him sleep. you went to your room and began packing your bags because you would be leaving in two days and you needed to begin getting ready for your departure back home. once the room was all sorted and looked like nobody was staying in it, you put your luggage back into the closet and made your way downstairs, cleaning had always been a way for you to relieve stress.

“sorry to keep you guys waiting, i wanted to clean up my room.” you told ellen and jim as you made your way downstairs.

“no need for apologies sweetie, let’s go. our first stop is breakfast.”

+++

you had gone to breakfast with luke’s parents and told them about your plans for after college.

“right now i’m planning on becoming a medical examiner.” you explained as you waited for your orders. “i just have to see if i made it into the pre-med program before i can begin properly planning my future.” ellen and jim nodded, and continued to ask some questions about how your first year of university was going and other school related topics.

+++

after breakfast they took you to the local farmers/flea market, you were excited as you had been meaning to ask luke to come along with you. as you were browsing your options you saw a couple booths near each other with fabric for sale, you quickly made your way over and began looking at what was all there. after a few moments you found the colors you were looking for.

you purchased your rolls of cloth as well as some embroidery floss in an assortment of colors because you had been meaning to stock up on it and some yarn for one of your experiments. after getting everything you made your way back towards ellen and jim, telling them what you got.

the next stop was the grocery store, with jack’s friends arriving early the house wasn’t stocked up for everybody staying over. during your morning with luke’s parents the topic of what happened the day before didn’t come up until your last stop of the day.

you were looking around a local garden shop, looking for a new plant to bring home, when ellen came up to you.

“i just want to apologize again for what happened yesterday. i am beyond embarrassed for how my sons have been treating you. you mean a lot to me, jim, and luke, and after the talk i had with them yesterday i’m hoping jack and quinn will come around as well.” you smiled at ellen, a couple tears were brought to surface when she said that you meant a lot to her.

once you and luke were gone ellen walked up to her oldest sons and they immediately knew what was coming.

“mom, please don’t-”

“no quinn! i am going to.” she sighed, “y/n means so much to luke, and for you guys to be so rude and disrespectful towards her is unacceptable. has she ever done anything to make you guys feel that way? or were these assumptions completely based on snap judgements?” ellen took her son’s silence as an answer. “y/n is good for luke, i’ve never seen him happier. he loves her enough to introduce us and allow us to spend time with her, and this is how you pay him back? you two need to figure out a way to fix this, i suggest you start with opening up the presents that y/n spent hours making for you two that you guys never had the common decency to be appreciative about, i think you’ll like what they are.” after giving them one more look of disappointment she walked back into the house to find jim and explain to him what was going on.

“i think they want to open up the gifts you made, but i never got to properly ask because their friends showed up.” you smiled at her. them opening up the gifts wasn’t going to fix everything, ellen knew this, but it was a start.

+++

it was only eleven when you returned back to the lake house, with how late everybody stayed up last night you didn’t expect anyone to awake yet, you were wrong. ellen and jim had some more places to go but didn’t want to take up your whole day so they dropped you back off at the house before continuing their list of things to do. when you got up to the front porch you heard the voices of multiple people, one being your boyfriend, and they were all yelling.

“this is all your guys’ fault! my girlfriend left because of you two and how you’ve been treating her.” you heard luke shout. you quickly realized you never informed luke of your last minute plans with his parents, you kind of expected ellen to send a message to him or to any of the boys to explain her and jim’s absence when they woke up.

“luke calm the fuck down. her car is still out front, she obviously didn’t leave.” jack’s voice was heard as you tried to open the front door, of course it was fucking locked.

“her luggage is gone, her room is spotless, it looks like nobody has stayed in it for weeks.” luke voice was breaking. you quickly knocked, more pounded, on the door needing someone to let you in. shortly after your began hitting the door it was opened, you didn’t recognize who it was so you knew it had to be one of quinn or jack’s guests.

“found her.”

you pushed past him and made your way to the living room where everyone was at, dropping your bags and wrapping luke into a hug. he noticeably relaxed under your touch, he grabbed onto you like his life depended on it and you heard muffled sobs against your neck where his face was buried into.

“i thought you left me.” he said, you were the only one that heard it he was that quiet.

“i’m so sorry luke, i–” you were going to explain what happened but you were cut off before you could continue.

“where the hell did you go?” you weren’t expecting that question, especially from who it came from. jack looked at you, anticipating your answer. you stood shocked, the genuine worry in his tone was enough to throw you off balance and leave you unable to speak. your silence seemed to just agitate him. “luke was worried sick. i get that you’re upset with me and with quinn, i do, we have been treating you horribly, but pulling this shit, causing us all to worry for you and your safety, just to get back at us is not okay.”

you felt bad, until he said that. “jack i didn’t run away as a form of revenge, i didn’t even run away, i went out with your parents. they thought i could use a break from everything going on here, and they were right.” you detached yourself from luke, your heart cracking a little bit when he whimpered at the loss of touch, and went to grab your bags from earlier. once they were in your hands again you walked up the stairs, grabbing Luke's wrist in the process. “i don’t owe either of you assholes any further explanations.”

+++

“i thought you left me because of how my brothers were treating you.” once you and luke made it into his room he broke down again, causing the guilt in you to bubble up.

“i’m so sorry baby, i would never leave you. your dad invited me to spend the morning with him and your mom and i thought it would be good to spend some time away from the house.” you said, rubbing his back as you sat in his lap, chest to chest.

after a few more minutes and a couple more apologies luke stopped crying, his sadness replaced with a slight amount of anger.

“don’t you ever do that again. i am your boyfriend, you are my guest in this house, i don’t want this to come off as insanely possessive, but i have a right to know where you are.” you could only nod at his words.

“i’m sorry luke, it didn’t even cross my mind. i wrongly assumed your mom would tell you, or that you would still be sleeping by the time i got back.”

“hey i’m not that lazy.” his joking nature allowed you to further calm down, you both got what you needed to off our chests.

“i can’t believe i called your brothers assholes.” you groaned, knowing that would probably make them dislike you even more.

“they deserved it.” luke said, giving you a kiss right after. “anyways, it was hot.”

“oh really?” you giggled, a blush forming on your cheeks as his hands began wandering.

“it’s a good thing i locked the door when we walked in.”

+++

it wasn’t for a couple more hours that you and luke went back downstairs, he thought it was time that you were actually introduced to the guests that joined you at the house.

“y/n this is trevor, cole, and alex, guys this is my girlfriend. y/n.” you smiled at them and said a faint hello, they all smiled back except for one. it was the one who asked luke who i was last night and opened the door for me earlier, the one who was now identified as trevor. he quickly went up to me and hugged me, taking me by surprise, i hesitantly brought my arms around him and gave him a slight pat on the back.

“it’s nice to finally meet you, i’ve heard many different things about you but i can already tell most of them were full of shit.” you smiled, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “well we were all planning on going out on the lake for a bit, eat dinner, watch the sunset, you two in?” you and luke both nodded before heading back upstairs to get ready.

+++

the tension on the boat was very evident, you felt bad for the three boys who probably had no idea what had happened just a day before, you’d probably feel even worse if they did know.

luke was quick to gain your attention, talking to you about the most random things. you kept up with his conversation before you noticed that jack and his friends were huddled up and whispering on the other side of the boat, you wouldn’t have been bothered if it weren’t for them constantly looking up at you before going back to their gossip session. you began to feel a little self conscious, you made an effort to cover yourself as much as you could with the one towel you could find near you. luke noticed the shift in your focus.

“is everything okay? you seem distracted, i’m sorry if you didn’t want to be near them so soon.”

“no luke it’s fine, i just feel like they’re talking about me.” you tried to subtly motion towards jack and his friends. luke just glared at them, seeing what you were seeing.

“here come sit on my lap, i’ll wrap my arms around you and protect you from them.” you giggled at his joking tone.

“anything to touch me huh hughes?” you poked at him once you were in his lap.

+++

dinner was served, an assortment of caprisuns and beers as well as uncrustables were on the menu for tonight. you moved up to grab some for you and luke when you got into a conversation with cole.

“so how long have you and luke been together?”

“ten months, our one year is in september.” you smiled, already excited for whatever the two of you would have planned for that night.

soon you were whisked away into a conversation, more like interrogation, about your relationship. trevor and cole sat next to you while jack, alex, and quinn sat in front of you. the oldest hughes put your boyfriend on wheel duty so he was on the other side of the boat, shooting you a worried glance each time you made eye contact with him.

“how did you meet?”

“we were in the same orientation group, we got paired together for this water balloon game.” you smiled at the memory, remembering how horrible luke was at simply catching the balloon.

“what are you studying?” quinn’s question caught you off guard, seemingly since for the past ten minutes all you’ve been asked about was his brother.

“i’m currently hoping to go pre-med, i will find out if i made it into the program in the next couple days hopefully.” you told him with a smile.

“so you wanna be a nurse or something?” trevor asked.

“no. if i wanted to be a nurse i would be in the nursing program.” you told him, taking a sip of the beer you were holding before continuing. “i’m planning on being a medical examiner, conducting autopsies, figuring out the time and cause of death of a person.” you could tell the topic of dead bodies made your small q/a crowd uncomfortable which caused you to giggle. “any more questions? or can i return to my boyfriend now?” the boys just shook their heads in response, so you got up and sat on luke’s lap.

“so how did that go? you don’t seem too tense anymore.” luke asked once you were both situated.

“it went decent, i think, they just asked about us the whole time.” he nodded at your answer. “-oh, but quinn did ask me a question about myself and just myself, nothing that had to do with you.” luke looked over at his oldest brother with a small smile, who returned it before you, unknowingly, interrupted the moment by asking luke to take some pictures of you.

+++

you spent the night in luke’s room again, the boys needed a room to stay in anyways, so you had convinced ellen and jim that staying with luke for two nights wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“i don’t want you to leave.” luke said quietly, stealing your attention away from the tv screen.

“i don’t want to leave.” you replied, shifting to face him.

“then don’t. i can guarantee my parents wouldn’t have any problems with you staying for another week or two.”

“luke i can’t, my sewing machine and all my other clothing stuff is back at my house and i’ve honestly gone a little insane just going five days without it–” luke rolled his eyes at your reasoning, giving you a look of disbelief.

“seriously, a machine is the reason you don’t wanna spend more time with your boyfriend?”

“-also i get my pre-med acceptance letter soon, if i get in, and i want to be with my parent’s when that happens and i know that they’re gonna want to celebrate with a party.”

“i think if you want to get closer to my brothers, or at least have them get to know you, you should stay here an extra week or two. they mean just as much to me as you do and i’m not saying you need to be best friends with them, but it would be nice if you guys got to know each other more and spend more time together.”

silence, and eventually sleep, consumed the two of you. both knowing an argument would only start if you continued to talk about it.

+++

you woke up in an empty bed, frowning you got up and looked around the room to see if he was at least still in his bedroom, he wasn’t. you got up and began getting ready, throwing a pink bikini and some jean shorts before braiding your hair.

once you were downstairs your boyfriend was still nowhere to be found, you made your way outside where you saw his brothers and friends, luke was not with them.

“hey guys, do you know where luke is?” you asked the group, hoping one of them had an answer for you.

“he left like two hours ago, didn’t mention where he was going though.” jack answered, you nodded. “if you would like to join us, we were planning on going wakesurfing today, i don’t want you getting bored in the house by yourself.” you smiled at his offer and accepted, telling the group to give you a few minutes so you could grab some things for the boat, sending luke a text on your way back into the house.

to: luke <3

hey, where are you?

to: luke <3

i’m going on the boat with your brothers and friends so wish me luck lol

you packed your bag and joined the boys outside who were already on the boat waiting for you.

+++

an hour later you still hadn’t received a response from luke and you were getting worried.

to: luke <3

are you okay?

to: luke <3

i find it funny that yesterday when i did this exact thing you said you had a right to know where i was at all times, do i not have that right either?

“y/n do you wanna try it?” my attention was drawn away from my phone to look at cole.

“sure, i don’t know what i’m doing though.” you replied, moving to take off your shorts and put on the life vest.

“didn’t do it before we got here?” alex asked.

“no, i had other things distracting me.” i glanced over at quinn who gave me an embarrassed smile before speaking.

“i’m sorry for that, i really am, it was uncalled for.” you just nodded in response, not really wanting to talk about it in front of everybody.

+++

you sucked at wakesurfing. you were able to keep your balance for thirty seconds at most before you slipped, or the one time trevor tackled you into the water. which of course was filmed and posted onto trevor’s story, the embarrassing scream you had let out was now viewable to his thousands of followers

once you guys got off the boat you quickly made your way inside to see if luke had shown up yet, he still hadn’t. you quickly opened your phone to call him but got no response, now you were mad. you two had talked about the importance of communication and the risks of not knowing where the other was yesterday, and here he was doing the opposite of everything he asked of you yesterday.

to: luke <3

idk what the hell you’re doing right now but it has now been six hours since i’ve woken up and you’re still nowhere to be found and no one has heard from you.

to: luke <3

i’m going to dinner with your brothers, so wish me luck, and if i don’t hear back from you by the time it’s dark i will send in a missing persons report.

to: luke <3

just lmk you’re safe.

you weren’t planning on leaving for dinner for a couple more hours so you spent some time getting the proper measurements for some clothes you would be working on, as well as studying up on how to knit a sweater since you would be trying that for the first time when you went back home.

you didn’t change for dinner, just throwing one of luke’s michigan shirts on top of your swimsuit and putting your shorts back on. soon you made your way downstairs where it was just quinn waiting, everyone else apparently still getting ready. when you saw it was just him you quickly tried to make a run for it and go back to your room.

“you know you don’t have to avoid me, i think it’s about time we talked anyways.” quinn’s voice stopped you from going up the stairs. you wanted to keep walking away, you really did, but you knew you needed to have the discussion. you made your way back into the living room and sat on the couch seat furthest away from quinn.

“ok let’s talk.” you started once you sat down. “can you tell me why you did what you did?”

you got straight to the point, not wanting to spare any time.

“i was just looking out for my little brother, i didn’t know you.”

“-you still don’t know me. the only information you know about me is my name and that i’m an aspiring pre-med student at michigan.” you interrupted quinn, earning a glare in your direction.

“yes. i still don’t know you, but i’m hoping that in the next two weeks that you’re staying here i can get to know you.” he finished speaking with a sigh, like it almost pained him to say those words.

“wait what? i’m leaving tomorrow to go home, i’m not staying for an extra two weeks.” you were confused, your parents were expecting you home in the next twenty four hours.

“luke told me this morning that there was a change of plans and that you were going to be staying an extra two weeks.” quinn said, equally as confused. “did you not know this?”

you could only shake your head as an answer while you pulled your phone out to text luke.

to: luke <3

i don’t know if you were trying to surprise me with an extra two weeks at the lake house but i told you i couldn’t do that, my parents wont allow it.

from: luke <3

*image*

i’m with your parents right now, they said it’s okay. i’m at dinner with them though so i’ll talk to you later, but please wait to yell at me until i’m back at the lake house tonight. i’m gonna hit the road soon.

“that little shit.” you muttered, making quinn laugh.

“what did he do?”

“he has been ignoring my texts and calls all day, which is a problem on its own especially because of what happened yesterday, and now he is at dinner with my parents five hours away in my hometown convincing them to let me stay here longer than what was planned.”

“you don’t want to stay here longer? is it because of me and jack? because i meant what i said on the boat, i really am sorry. no matter what the circumstances were, i took it too far. i’m shocked it took you so long to call us assholes.” quinn’s last comment makes you laugh.

“i’m not gonna lie, you two are partially why i want to leave, but also because i know that next week more of your guys’ friends will be here and that ellen and jim are leaving, i just don’t want to intrude.” quinn nodded at your reasons.

“well if you do stay i think it would be a good time for me to properly get to know you, i would say that we could just start over and forget everything that happened…” he trailed off waiting for an answer from you.

“-not a chance. what you, and jack, did was not okay. i forgive, but i don’t forget.” before quinn could say anything in response the rest of the boys came downstairs and we all headed out to the cars to go to dinner.

+++

dinner was another interrogation, but this time it was almost all questions about you.

“so what do you do for fun?” that can be a loaded question, alex asked you it in hopes to be able to spark more conversations about things that might tie to your answers.

“well i like to design and create clothing, or add things to a boring sweatshirt from the thrift. i do lots of upcycling with things i find at goodwill.” you answered, not knowing how they would respond.

“do you have any pictures of things you have made in the past?” cole asked this time, you nodded and got out your phone. showing them some pullovers you had embroidered things onto, the swimsuits you had made from scratch for you and luke, the apron and hand towels that were gifted to ellen, as well as the ties and matching pocket squares that you made for the hughes boys.

“oh that’s the set you made for my dad.” jack said before pausing, noticing the embroidered initials and numbers on the ties next to the one his father owned. “were those our gifts?” he had gotten so quiet you were shocked you were able to hear it.

“yeah they were, still are if you want them, luke told me the colors of your teams and i went from there to make them.” you told jack before looking at quinn who had a matching look as his brothers.

“can’t believe you ever made gifts for them after how they had treated you.” trevor’s joke made you wince, it seems like they don’t know the full story.

“well i didn’t do it to get on their good side, i did it just because i thought this would be something they would enjoy, something personal to wear before games or at events, and creating things for people is something i really enjoy.” you kept your head down while talking, not wanting anyone to see the emotion in your face. the waitress soon brought everyone’s food out, you thanked anything and everything that lived up above as something was there to distract everybody for the time being.

+++

once back from dinner you went to hangout by the docks and watch the sunset, the boys had dropped you off per your request because you desperately needed some alone time. after the sun had fully set and you were pleased with the photos you had taken, you decided to go for a swim, stripping off your shirt and shorts, shivering as the cold breeze of the night came over you. you didn’t give yourself time to rethink your actions and jumped into the lake, you were freezing but it felt good. the cold being exactly what you needed.

you don’t know how long you were out there before you heard the sliding door open.

“babe are you out here?” luke’s voice brought immense comfort over you, it felt like it had been days since you’d last seen him. slowly swimming towards the steps you made yourself known.

“yes” you shouted, stepping out of the water and onto the dock. luke quickly made his way towards you, stopping once he was at the end of the dock and could see what you were wearing.

“you look really hot in that swimsuit.” you blushed at his compliment, and at the way his eyes were raking over your body. “you shouldn’t be able to look this hot babe.”

“oh really?” you said stepping closer to him, looking at his lower half to see if he had anything in his pockets, he didn’t. “well, we should do something about that then.” you reached out to grab his shoulders and turn him around, leaning in for a kiss, but before your lips could touch you shoved him into the water. “that’s what you get for ignoring me all day.”

you jumped into the water a few moments later, luke’s shocked face making you laugh harder.

“what the hell y/n.” luke asked once the shock from the cold died down in him.

“it seemed like you needed some cooling down, also you spent the whole day ignoring me and then went behind my back to get me to stay an extra two weeks.” you replied, swimming up closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i have a surprise for you when we get back inside to make up for it.” luke’s arms instinctively wrapped around your waist.

you stayed like that for quite some time, luke filling you in on his day and vice versa.

“so quinn apologized to you and said he wanted to get to know you during the rest of your stay?” you nodded at his question, making luke’s smile grow wider than it already was. “that is so great y/n.”

as you were about to add something to what luke had said the sound of footsteps made you close your mouth.

“yeah mom they’re out here.” jack yelled back in the direction of the house. “you two are in trouble, get inside.”

+++

“so luke, do you see you and y/n lasting? like once you start in the NHL?”

you weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but you knew that you had woken up while luke’s brothers were grilling him about our relationship. you didn’t open your eyes, you knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but they should know the risks of talking loudly while someone sleeps a few inches away from them.

“i do see us lasting, for a long time. i know you guys might think this is premature but i can see myself spending the rest of my life with her.” luke’s words made your heart rate pick up, “i want her to come to new jersey, but after she has completed all her schooling. i can’t ask her to give up her education for me, it means too much to her.”

“but if she goes pre-med she will have a lot more years of school, it’s an extra four years and usually more. could you wait about ten years for her? is she worth it?”

“y/n is absolutely worth it, i don’t care how long it takes for her to finish school she is it for me.” tears had started to well up in your eyes, you couldn’t pretend to be asleep anymore.

you shot up from your spot on the couch and tackled luke in a hug, you had never doubted luke’s commitment for you, but to hear him say it, especially to people who aren’t the biggest fan of you meant a lot.

“i love you luke.” you whispered, a few tears spilling out.

“i love you too baby.”

you both missed the look his brothers gave each other, a look that said “maybe she isn’t so bad”

+++

you didn’t make it into the pre-med program. your parents had opened the letter with you over facetime, you were crushed. yes you could apply next year, and every year after that until you got accepted, but you didn’t want to do that, you wanted to get into the program after one try and that didn’t happen.

luke was there for you, he held you while you cried, comforted you when trevor accidentally got you a congratulations balloon thinking you were accepted, and stayed with you during the days even though you knew he wanted to spend time with people that weren’t you.

one day you did force him to go out on the lake, dylan and mackie had arrived that morning and you know he wanted to hang out with them, even though he told you he was happy to spend the day with you. you spent a lot of the day cleaning, with ellen gone the house started to look like only teenage boys were staying there. once you were done with that you made lunch and headed back upstairs to finish your next task. after plenty of talks with your parents, and a few emails with your advisor, you decided to change your major to business. all your life you’d been making clothes, you thought you might just make a career out of it because you enjoy doing it so much. you hadn’t told anyone other than your parents, you were scared to. you didn’t want anyone, more specifically luke, to think you were giving up on becoming a medical examiner just because you got one rejection letter. and you did what you did best when you were anxious about something, you made clothes and cleaned. when luke went back to your hometown last week he grabbed your storage tote full of all the essentials, your sewing machine, the brand new embroidery machine your parents bought you to celebrate completing your first year of university, and way too many fabrics. while you’ve been bunkered up in luke’s room, not wanting to face the world just yet you’ve made lots of items. ties for jim, a sweater for ellen, another bathing suit for luke, and today you were determined to make matching shirts for you and luke. you started with making basic white tee, you could’ve easily bought them but there is no fun in that, and then you decided to do a heat transfer of the design you picked out.

they were gonna be gag gifts, every year one of the frats hosts a “twin” party where you and your date show up in matching outfits and this year you and luke were going together. your shirt would say “i 🩷 my boyfriend” with an image of the two of you on the back, and his would be the exact same but with girlfriend instead of boyfriend. the creation of the shirts didn’t take as long as you thought it would, so now you were looking for more things to do, you weren’t able to make a decision as luke’s door was opened by jack.

“hey me and quinn are going to get ice cream, would you like to come?” you accepted their offer, knowing that you needed to get out of the house.

it didn’t hit you that this would be the first time you would be alone with luke’s brothers, ever. sure you had your conversation with quinn the other night, but now that jack was here it made you just as fearful, a bit more even.

+++

“so what did you do today? i know that luke went out with dylan and mackie, we haven’t been seeing you much.” jack said once you all sat down for ice cream.

“well i assume you guys heard that i did not make it into the pre-med program so i’ve just been in a small slump lately–” you were cut off by quinn.

“we actually didn’t know, but that makes sense why trevor felt so guilty about the balloon he got you.”

“yeah, but today i actually switched my major. i’m gonna study business now, possibly entrepreneurship, i decided to pursue a career more based on starting my own clothing company.” you told the boys, who glanced at each other.

“well that is amazing, congratulations. have you told luke yet?” jack asked, beating quinn to speaking.

“no, you guys are actually the first people i’ve told, trying to avoid others thinking i’m giving up on pre-med.” the boys nodded at your reasoning, quinn decided to fill the silence this time.

“luke told us he brought up your clothing stuff, have you made anything?”

“yeah, i’ve made a couple ties, some shirts, a sweater, and a swimsuit.” you laughed at their shocked faces. “i’ve had a lot of free time since i haven’t been leaving the house.”

+++

it had now been five days since you switched your major and you still hadn’t told luke, even if you wanted to tell him you probably wouldn’t have the time to since he has been with dylan, mackie, and the couple other michigan players that have arrived at the house. this is one of the reasons why you didn’t want to stay any longer than a week, you knew luke was going to become distant when his friends showed up.

waking up to an empty bed became normal, luke and the other boys would do some training in the mornings. so like you did yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, you got up and made your way downstairs to make breakfast. quickly distracted by the mess that had been made from what you assumed were smoothies or homemade protein shakes. you silently cursed whoever made the mess while you cleaned it up, then moving on to do some laundry. towels and swimsuits had been piling up in a very overfilled basket and you knew none of the boys were gonna do it. once the load was in you moved on to tidy up the living room, folding blankets, fluffing pillows, vacuuming.

“stress cleaning?” you whipped your head around to see jack sitting on top of a freshly fluffed pillow and unfolding a blanket.

“no, why would you think that?” you said, while walking over to get him off of the loveseat to make it presentable again.

“because you still haven’t told luke about switching majors and the more you hold off the worse you think he is going to react.” jack stated, “also, you just kicked me out of my seat to do whatever the hell that is.” pointing to you as he sat down on the floor.

you scoffed and stopped karate chopping the throw pillow once it looked nice enough. “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“just tell him y/n, i’m serious. he is only going to be more hurt the longer you take to tell him, and you don’t wanna hurt my brother, i’ve just started to like you.” he smirked when you glared at him.

“haha very funny jack.”

“what’s got you so scared to tell him anyways?” jack asked in a much softer tone of voice, patting the spot on the carpet next to him.

you sat before sighing. “i don’t want him to think i’m giving up on something just because of one small hardship. all the time i hear him bragging to his teammates and friends about how his girlfriend is super smart and is gonna be the best doctor for the dead in the world one day, i’m scared to disappoint him.” you felt a couple tears in your eyes before you continued to speak. “i’ve seen him researching med schools near newark, one’s that have the best program for medical examiners. he believes in me, he knows i could do this even if i don’t, and i don’t want him to think i’m dumbing myself down to a bachelors in the most basic study field ever.” by the end of your small rant the tears had begun falling, they weren’t sobs but they were there.

“y/n, luke loves you so much. you getting a four year degree in business is not going to change that, yes he is your number one supporter when it comes to you becoming a medical examiner, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be your number one supporter when it comes to you being a fashion designer, or whatever it is you want to do i’m a little confused.” you laughed as jack continued. “do you know how much shit me and the guys have given him for some of the things he wears, we don’t even call him luke anymore he is just “simp” to us now, but he doesn’t care about that, he cares about you and your happiness, and if getting made fun of for wearing matching swimsuits with you or wearing a hat with your initials on it means making you happy, he is going to do it. he will be there for you no matter what because he loves you, and i can see why he does. you’re an amazing person y/n, and i’m so sorry for how i have been treating you over the past ten months. i know that sorrys aren’t enough to make up for what we did to you, but i hope it can be a start to us becoming friends because i need more people to bother luke with me.” you smiled and pulled jack into a hug, thanking him for the apology and kind words as well as forgiving him.

“one more thing, did he really refer to you as a future doctor for the dead?” jack asked, laughing a little.

“yes, it was so funny.”

+++

you and jack decided to watch a movie while you waited for luke to come back from training, quinn soon joined you two on the floor after he had woken up. it was nice, there was no awkward tension, no glares being thrown in your direction, you felt like you were all getting along for the first time and that made you smile.

“um why are you all on the floor?” dylan’s voice cut the peacefulness that had come over the three of you, all three of you quickly looked away from the tv to see the boys all back from training. you made eye contact with luke who was looking at you with a shocked, but very happy, expression. you just smiled and gave him two thumbs up, before turning towards jack and quinn to excuse yourself. you made your way to luke and gave him a kiss and grabbed his hand to take him upstairs, but not before telling jack to switch the laundry loads for you.

+++

once you were in luke’s room he began asking you questions about what he had just walked in on.

“well i was stress cleaning and jack walked in on me doing it and somehow got me to tell him about all my problems, if hockey doesn’t work out for him you should tell him to join the counseling field, but after i went a mini rant about what i’ve been fixated on lately he apologized and we talked everything out and i think we are officially on good terms.” you said in one breath, smiling as luke wrapped you up in a hug.

“what about quinn? is everything okay between you two?” you nodded and explained that you had talked it out with him a couple days ago.

+++

you and luke started getting ready for the dinner party that the hughes brothers were invited to and you were going as luke’s plus one, you didn’t fully understand what it was for but all you knew was that it was a semi-formal event, making it the perfect opportunity to have luke wear the tie you made him a few days prior, the one that matched your soft pink dress.

as you were doing your makeup luke spoke up again, going back to your conversation from before.

“wait babe, you said that you were stress cleaning. what are you stressed about?” luke asked, walking into the bathroom and leaning against the counter. you looked at him through the mirror and continued applying mascara as you told him.

“about a week ago, after i got the rejection letter, i switched my major to business and entrepreneurship, to pursue a career in fashion. i didn’t tell you because i was nervous on how you would react, and the longer i kept it from you the more stressed out i got. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i know how excited you were to be dating a genius and now i’ve let you down.” you looked at his face to see his reaction, but his face wasn’t telling you anything.

silence took over the bathroom as luke tried to find the right words to say.

“you could never let me down y/n, yes i am a little upset that it took you so long to tell me, but i understand why you did it. i am proud of you and everything you have accomplished so far. so med school isn’t for you? you are going to kick ass in the fashion industry babe, they won’t know what hit them.” he smiled at you before wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your shoulder. “i love you y/n, never doubt that.”

“i love you too luke.”

+++

you and luke sat in the living room waiting for his brothers to come downstairs, you began to get a little antsy as you feared you would be late if you didn’t leave in the next five minutes.

“would you two hurry up! y/n is pacing back and forth cursing you guys for making us late.” luke yelled up to his brothers, who quickly made their way downstairs.

“sorry we weren’t sure how to tie these ties.” quinn said once they were both at the bottom of the steps.

you looked up at them and instantly began smiling. “you’re wearing them.”

jack and quinn looked at you, both with huge grins on their faces, before pulling you into a hug. they were wearing the ties you had made them for the holidays, nearly a year ago.

“we love our gifts.” and “better late than never” were said but you weren’t sure who said which.

you quickly called for luke to stand with his brother so you could take a photo of the three of them.

“you better post that on your main y/n, show the world you have the coolest future brother in-laws ever.” jack shouted as he raced luke for shotgun.

you don’t know how you got so lucky.

+++

note: OMG it’s done. this was a bit hard to write because the whole time i was horrified it would flop or people wouldn’t like it, and i’m still horrified lols (the ending is so rushed i don't like it). anyways i hope you enjoyed, feedback is so greatly appreciated. it lets me know what i’m doing that people like and what i could be changing about my writing. just hoping this one does number like lucky did. have a great day, love y’all babes <3!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #New Jersey Devils #ahonice writes #jack hughes #quinn hughes

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seungmoonandstars · 5 months

Text

𝒮𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 7.1k

rating: Mature, NON-explicit (part 2)

→ PART ONE

Part 2 of 4

The sun is coming through the trees and leaving freckles of light over Seungmin’s face and chest. His eyes are closed, hands propping him up as he leans back and stares up at the sky.

You’ve been meaning to ask the question bouncing around in your head for several minutes, but you can’t stop staring at him like this. You reach out and gently shake his foot until he looks at you.

“Hey, sorry…I didn’t mean to get quiet.”

- Seungmin is tired.

Car rides are his worst enemy if he’s trying to stay awake, especially if he ends up in the backseat. His head keeps swaying side to side. The ride is far too smooth, and he feels like a baby being lulled to sleep.

The car turns left, then right, then right again. He doesn’t need to feel it come to a stop to know he’s home.

As happy as he is to finally be done with traveling—for now, he doesn’t think he has the energy to get himself back on two feet.

He hits his neatly made bed immediately. No unpacking, no snack, no checking text messages. There is zero time between thinking about sleep and passing out; there is only a deep dreamless sleep.

____

It’s dark and warm in his room when he wakes up. His eyes stay closed tight, but he can feel how late it is. He knows he’s been sleeping far too long. Nobody bothered waking him for dinner or checking up on him, because that would have been useless. He doesn’t even mind that he missed the Giants game.

He feels much better now, until he looks down at his phone to check the time. The first problem is it’s already past midnight. The second problem is he has 43 notifications to open.

Seungmin scans over them to see if he missed anything important. Most of them look deletable, but a few he duly notes, and definitely needs to answer in the morning.

He opens the text from Choonhee, though.

Are you here for the long weekend?

He doesn’t mind texting her this late. He sends back a quick response without much thought: “I’m here until Wednesday!

Time to shower and eat.

Seungmin stands in the shower for a good fifteen minutes—clearing his mind, easing the tension he always holds in his shoulders— before finally, somewhere in the back of his memory, the part where he puts things and never ever remembers them…he remembers something.

“Oh…” he cups his face in his hands and scrubs at his cheeks, “shit.”

He takes his time getting out. An extra half an hour accidentally ignoring you isn’t going to make much of a difference now. Hair gets dried; fresh clothes thrown on. He clicks the fan in his bedroom so it pushes the warm air around. The cool night air is at least trying to find it’s way in.

Now he notices how hungry he is. Might as well find something in the kitchen before getting into a conversation. One that goes well, hopefully.

A bowl of oi-muchim, a beer, and his phone in hand, Seungmin makes himself comfortable on the couch. He pulls up Choonhee’s text messages again and hopes she still awake…

“Is it too late to text her? Do you think she’s up?”

He sends it off and tries not to watch his phone for her reply. He clicks the tv on and eats, but before his second bite, his phone goes off.

She won’t mind if it’s you

Seungmin hopes Choonhee’s right. And hopes you’ll still actually want to speak after two months of accidental silence.

Now he puts his food down, drinks some of his beer, and thinks…”what am I supposed to say at one in the morning?” He mumbles it to himself. But he starts typing anyway, letting his thumbs and his heart do the work. If he thinks too much, nothing will ever come out.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m texting you so late. And also sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I hope you can forgive me. I’m in town for a few days if you’re interested in seeing each other.”

He reads it and rereads it. Then sends it away. It’s the best he can do.

The rest of the night is nothing but a long wait. The nap he took served perfectly as a good nights sleep, so the next few hours are spent catching up on baseball highlights, finishing a drama, and then silently obsessing over whether or not he’ll get a text back while a new show plays out in front of him .

At 7:30, Seungmin’s phone buzzes in his hand. He’s sound asleep, but still holding onto it. It wakes him right away, but it takes a moment before he can remember where he is, and what he’s doing there. Too much sleep makes his head fuzzy, and yesterday and this morning must have been a combined eleven hours.

He looks at the notification and remembers. Only the name on the screen registers in his mind before he unlocks his phone and sits up. He shakes the sleep from his head and rubs his eyes before reading…

I would love to see you

A sigh of relief. You’re not mad. Seungmin’s heartbeat picks up in his chest as he types.

“Tonight? Or today. Any time is good.”

This reply takes a little longer. He gets up to change just in case he has to run out the door to meet you. Your reply comes a few minutes later. Seungmin reads it as he’s jumping into his shorts.

I’m free all day. Do you want to come over for breakfast?

“Come over for breakfast? Are you going to make me breakfast?” he thinks out loud. He’s hoping that’s what you mean.

“I’ll be there in an hour”

____

Your internal alarm hates you. At precisely 7:25, you’re awake. Even on the weekends, you can’t sleep in. It takes a couple of minutes before you can even think about moving, but the warmth in the room and the sun peeking in eventually forces you up. You can only take so much.

Your phone, charging on the nightstand, buzzes softly. Probably an email. It buzzes again. You thought you put it on sleep mode last night, but maybe not. It’s a miracle nothing woke you up. You grab it and unplug it…

Email Spam email Work email you never opened or cleared Instagram

Text from Seungmin

“Seungmin,” you say his name out loud in case you’re still a little bit asleep. Seungmin, who you haven’t had a text from in months; who has probably been very busy and very tired when he isn’t busy, sent you a text at one in the morning.

You open it quickly, butterflies in your stomach, and read. You read it a few times. His texts are always a little longer, never one or two words. And you always read him in his voice. You’ve listened to him singing and speaking enough now that you hear it in your sleep. You don’t have to think much about your reply.

“I would love to see you”

____

There’s little time to pick up the apartment and figure out what you’re going to make for him. You do your best with what little time you have. Shower, hair, makeup…outfit. You probably should have given yourself a little more time. Too late now, he’ll be on his way soon.

It’s been nearly seven months since your blind date, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. The time between his last text and today somehow felt longer. You feel like it’s going to be a first impression all over again, so you really want to give him your best. Maybe even better than last time, now that you know what you’re getting into.

In the kitchen, you start pulling things out to make, and you’re relieved to find you have something to cook for him.

You hope he likes American breakfast. You do know he likes coffee. Just a few days ago a care package came from your parents; coffee, snacks…things you miss from home. You pull out the bag of beans and start grinding.

Minutes later, or at least it feels like minutes, (the full hour, plus 20 extra minutes, has passed) you hear you phone buzz. Before you can get to it, the intercom buzzes. You grab your phone and run to the door.

“Hi I’m here”

You smile at his message and let him into the lobby before texting back, “543.” You’re surprised and a little flattered that he remembered where your building was and was confident enough to come without even confirming.

He sends a smiling emoji in reply.

Your back is against the door, eyes closed. Your picturing him walking to the elevator, pushing the button, waiting…

The elevator here is pretty slow…

He gets on and hits the 5th floor button. It comes straight up without stopping, considering the early hour. Everyone else in this building is definitely sleeping in. He turns right and walks, maybe a little hesitantly, toward your apartment, looks at the number on the door, then at your text.

He knocks gently. Three soft little knocks. You take in a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. The deadbolt clicks.

When you crack the door he’s smiling down at you. You pull it open the rest of the way and stand there awkwardly for a moment. You feel like one of your eight-year-olds trying to find the right words in English. You stupidly breath out a wow and desperately hope he didn’t hear it

He stands there with one hand in the pocket of his shorts. The other hand is holding a paper bag. He swings it a little as he takes a careful step over your threshold.

“Morning.” You finally manage to say.

“Good morning,” he closes the door behind him, and his smile grows as he moves closer to you.

His face looks a little different. It’s been long enough that you’re thinking his braces have changed his smile, or maybe he’s just gotten older. The spring sun has turned his skin a few shades darker compared to October. His hair is dark and straight across his forehead; different then the last time you saw him. You’ve also gotten used to seeing him only in videos and photos. None of that does him justice. In front of you, he’s better—and you forgot how much better.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin reaches his hand toward you as if he’s going to touch your cheek, but he stops just short of you, and his hand falls slowly.

“Yeah, yeah…sorry,” you set your hand on your face where his hand should have been. “I uhhm,” you still can’t seem to find the right words. So much for a new first impression. Now what?

You put your other hand around his waist and pull yourself to him. You’re relieved when he reciprocates the embrace. He holds onto you for a while, not letting up on his grip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.”

Even though you had plenty of old texts to return to; to re-convince yourself that Seungmin liked you and wanted to see you again, you still needed this physical reassurance. The last two months were a lot more lonely than you care to admit, and part of you was starting to let go.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

“Still a bad excuse.” He loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t let go completely. The bag he’s holding shakes a little in his hand. “I brought this for you.”

“Another gift? You’re making me look bad.” You slide away from his grip (very reluctantly) and head toward the kitchen.

“Well, you did make me coffee. It smells good.”

Seungmin follows closely behind. The kitchen is a little bit of a mess, but cooking and cleaning at the same time is not one of your strong suits. You grab a few things and toss them in the trash, the sink, the dishwasher. You don’t even realize he’s right behind you until you turn again to grab two clean glasses.

“I can bring you your coffee. It’s a mess in here, you don’t need to see this.”

“Oh I don’t mind. You are definitely a messy cook, though. You should clean as you go!”

“Believe me, I try.” You pour the cooled coffee into a glass over ice. “I hope you like this…have you ever had Kona coffee?”

Seungmin shakes his head and smiles. You briefly wonder if he realizes how cute it is, then you pour some for yourself, “I’m sure you’ll like it.” He takes it from you and follows as you lead him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

You sit. He sits, and sips his coffee, then adjusts so he’s a little closer to you.

“How long have you been in town?” You bring your knees up to your chest and turn your body to him.

“I got in yesterday afternoon, but I fell asleep and woke up very late.”

“Oh, that explains the late text.”

“Yes, hopefully it didn’t wake you. Choonhee told me you wouldn’t mind if I texted you so late.”

“It didn’t wake me up. It was a nice surprise this morning.”

He’s bouncing his legs up and down; knees are moving together, then apart, then together again. A nervous tick, maybe. All you do know is that the movement of his thighs is distracting. You tear your eyes away, and when you do, he’s looking at you.

“How have you been?” He asks, and he’s not just making conversation. The way he speaks is sincere. “Anymore blind dates?” He whispers the last part.

“Oh, no…no,” you stare into your coffee and shake your head. “Nothing special, not since our date.”

He smiles, but says nothing.

“I did keep up with you. I caught a few of your lives, checked YouTube for new videos…”

Seungmin laughs and lays his head back against the couch, “next time we don’t see each other for a while, I will call, and we can have a real live.”

“Is that a promise?”

He thinks for a moment, “yes, promise. I’ll be a better texter…also.” He adjusts and moves himself a little closer to you.

“I’ll take either.”

“I think I just…don’t know what to say sometimes. I don’t want to say something stupid, so I don’t say anything at all. And then I forget.”

“I don’t mind if you say something stupid.” You reach out and move a piece of hair out of Seungmin’s eyes. “I’d prefer it, actually. Then I can say something stupid back.”

He tilts his head and his hair falls back over his eyes. “Good to know.”

“Are you hungry?” You move his hair again.

He looks at you without answering for a very long moment. His eyes are impossibly big and dark; bottom lip a little bit red from biting down on it. Your eyes jump from the beauty mark on his cheek (you’re also thinking about how nice it is to finally see him again without makeup), to his eyes, his nose, his lips. His hair swings back down in front of his eyes.

He brings his hand up and attempts to fix his hair, but he just shakes his head again and smiles, “yes, I am. Very hungry.”

“I guess you can help me finish up,” you reach for his hand, which he happily takes, and lead him back to the kitchen. You prepped everything, but wanted it to be fresh when you sat down to eat.

“What are we having?” He looks at the counter. Four thick slices of bread and a bowl of something milky, eggs. “Oh these I can do,” Seungmin picks up an egg and holds it next to his face. “I can fry a good egg.”

“Okay, that’s your job.” You freshen his coffee while he examines the half dozen eggs in front of him. “Make however many you want.”

“Can I make all of them?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I have more if that’s not enough.”

“French toast?” He examines the milky batter next to the slices of bread. “I’ve had it before, but not for a very long time.”

“Is that okay? I can always make something else.” You turn the burner on low and let the pan get warm.

“No, I want to try your french toast.”

You reach for the butter, taking great care to reach around him by placing your hand on the belt of his shorts. He watches you closely as you dip each slice of bread into the batter, and when the butter melts completely, place them neatly in the pan.

“Nice sizzle,” he whispers. And then he laughs when you laugh. “Oh, I’m doing the eggs…” He turns his burner on low, butters his pan, and cracks four of the six eggs.

Seungmin looks at you, “I don’t want to crowd them.” He nods his head at two intact eggs. “They can wait.”

“You’re the expert.”

“They will be good, I promise.”

“Even if they’re bad, I’m sure I’ll love them.”

You hear him laugh as you tend to the French toast, shaking on the cinnamon, flipping them when they’re just crispy and brown. Seungmin ooohs at them as he seasons his eggs.

“Do you prefer maple syrup or…honey?”

“Hm?” He flips the eggs carefully and takes them off the heat before turning to the selection of toppings you’re setting out.

“Can you turn my burner off?”

He clicks it off, and Seungmin finds his way to the cupboard to get a plate. He gently sets his finished eggs onto it and cracks the remaining ones into the warm pan.

“Do you like maple syrup, or do you want honey?”

“Oh…maple syrup! And strawberries.”

“And whipped cream?”

“Dessert for breakfast…” he takes one of the strawberries and bites into it.

____

You have one dining table in your tiny apartment. It has two chairs, and it’s right next to the large picture window that sits just between the kitchen and the living room. Outside is a limited view of the city. It’s nice, though. And you can afford it.

Seungmin is watching the city slowly start to move, chin resting in the palm of his hand. He has a smile on his face–it’s very subtle on his lips, but not in his eyes. You made him sit while you got the rest of the food ready, and eventually, he listened.

“Is this enough strawberries?”

He looks at you first and smiles, then at his plate. “Yes, thank you,” he waits for you to sit before whispering jal meokgetseumnida and when you pick up your fork, he follows. Seungmin opted for maple syrup, strawberries, whipped cream. He goes for the whipped cream first, eating a forkful by itself.

“Did you make this, too?” He takes another bite of it, this time with a big piece of strawberry.

You nod.

“It’s very good, it’s not too sweet.” He cuts into his French toast now, getting a bite of all three at once.

“If everything is too sweet, it ruins it.”

“Sometimes…” he says in a singsong voice, almost a whisper.

You sneak glances at him between your own bites. He’s a quiet eater this morning, but you’re comfortable sitting there with him in the silence.

“How has work been?”

“Kind of crazy.” He takes a drink of his coffee, “we will be in Japan in two weeks, and then to the US after that.” Seungmin nods to himself and divides the four eggs between you.

They do look perfect and exactly how you usually make them. Over-easy. “That’s exciting…but I’m sure it’s very exhausting.”

He picks one up and shoves the entire thing in his mouth. You can tell he wants to speak as soon as he does it, but he chews patiently. “I wouldn’t want to do anything else, but some days it is a lot. And very tiring.”

He rests his face in his hands again. He finished his food. Now he’s looking at you with the same tired eyes he’s given you before.

“Thank you for making time for me.” You say.

He sits back in his seat, smiles, shakes his head a little.

You look at him questioningly. His mannerism are cute, but you’re not quite sure how to interpret them sometimes. “What is it?”

“I’m happy to be here.”

“You are?” When you stand to clean off the table, he stands with you to help. You let him.

“Yes,” he bites into another strawberry when he gets to kitchen sink with his dishes. “I like you. You're...you're relaxing to be around. I don't feel any pressure here."

You look at him and smile, unsure of how to respond at first. "Thank you." It's not enough of a reply, you know that, but you're a little lost for words.

"Is that a weird thing to say?"

"No! Not at all. It might be the sweetest complement a date has ever given me."

Seungmin follows you wordlessly to the living room, and sits when you sit. You move a little closer to him and relax, hoping he continues to mimic you. And he does.

“Can I ask you something…um,” he purses his lips as he thinks, covers his cheeks with his hands. “Something personal I guess. Kind of. Maybe not really personal but-”

“Yes, of course you can.” You take one of his hands away from his face and hold it in yours. It’s starting to feel like the first date, except now he seems a little different than last time. Maybe he’s worn out from performing. Maybe it’s just an off day.

He’s looking down at his hand clasped in yours, “do you ever feel like, um…I guess it’s hard to put into English.”

“That’s okay, we can use whatever words feel best for you.”

Seungmin can’t help but smile at that, and a tiny laugh escapes. “I almost forgot, you teach kids. You do sound like a teacher.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I mean…whichever language.” You pull his hand closer to you and put your other hand over it. “I’m sure between us we can figure it out.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“What’s bothering you?” You squeeze his hands even harder.

“I don’t know if you will, but if you ever meet my friends…the other members.” He stops for a moment to look at you.

You nod at him, but at the same time you’re completely unprepared for that statement. Meeting his friends? It's a big jump from where you're at right now.

“I guess I’m worried you might like them more than you like me.” His head falls back on the couch and he covers his eyes with his free hand. He sighs loudly.

“Why would you think that?” You pull him closer and shake him a little, “Seungmin…Seungmin, what do they call you when they don’t call you Seungmin?”

You get him to laugh, at least.

“Minnie,” he looks at you through his fingers. He says it again under his breath. “Min…puppy.”

“Puppy?” you scoot even closer to him, until you can almost set your chin on his shoulder. "Puppy."

He closes the gap a little.

Your forehead is almost touching his. You hold his eyes there. Then you kiss the bridge of his nose.

He leans forward and sets his head in the space between your neck and shoulder. His hair is tickling your ear, and his lips are brushing against your skin. You’re certain he can hear your blood pumping through your veins.

He lets out a long sigh. You don’t really want to say anything, you’d prefer it if the two of you could just stay like this for a little bit longer. And suddenly thinking of him leaving again (for another six months, maybe) gives you a horrible sinking feeling in your stomach.

But you need to talk to him.

“Why do you think that?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds as he searches for the right words. “There are eight of us…and sometimes I end up feeling, uhm…”

There's a long pause while you both think. He's searching for the words; you're searching his mind and his face.

”Do you feel like you're stuck behind everyone sometimes?” You think that’s what he’s getting at. You can see it in his eyes.

”Yes, I guess so. I mean, I know I am not as popular.”

It’s a hard comment for you to respond to, but the sad smile on his face makes you a little angry. Not at him, just at every single person outside of your apartment.

“Well, you’re my favorite.”

A hesitant smile appears.

Your hands close around either side of his face, and you graze your fingertips over his ears, “I’m sure the others are great, and I’m sure I could be friends with them someday...but they’re not you, and I already told you we wouldn’t make very good friends.”

You’re not sure why him being vulnerable and honest is suddenly, making you so bold, but you’re not going to question it. He’s quiet and calm as you speak, so you must be doing something right.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else here with me.” You hope he believes you, but you also aren’t a stranger to the hesitant feelings he’s obviously processing. “And I wish you could stay.”

“I can stay today!”

____

Seungmin falls asleep on your couch again. This time, though, he’s lying comfortably with his face shoved into one of your pillows and his curled up legs are almost on your lap. It’s a small couch.

You put a movie on, but he didn’t last more than a half an hour. It’s been two hours now, and you really don’t want to wake him. You’re certain he’ll get up on his own soon.

The kitchen is clean, the movie is over. You’re a little tired yourself, honestly, but you don’t think you could fall asleep while he’s here and almost in your lap. He’s a quiet sleeper, and he’s hardly moved, but you can hear his big sighs every few times he exhales.

He shifts a little when your hand touches his leg, but he settles back down immediately, and is out again. Even when your palm slides over his skin, he doesn’t move.

The soft buzz of his phone doesn’t wake him, either. But it’s going off again, and it’s the third time. You’re wondering if it’s important, but you don’t want to pry.

You run your hand over his leg again. Still nothing. It goes off again—this time it’s ringing. You can see the name on the screen without looking very hard.

“Seungmin…” You whisper. This time you gently drag your fingertips across his skin. “Seungmin?”

A little groan. His leg stretches out across your thigh. You squeeze his calf a bit and he seems to react, but not enough, so you gently move him and get up.

“Seungmin?” You kneel down until you’re face to face with him. He looks so peaceful and content, and while you hate to disturb him, you’re kind of looking forward to him slowly waking up. Saying his name isn’t getting through, though, so you place the tip of your finger at his temple and lightly trace a line down the side of his face.

A raspy mmm is all you get in return.

You bury your fingers in his hair and comb through it, kneading into his scalp a little. “Minnie?” You move down toward his neck, knead a little more, this time into a soft part of his shoulder.

His eyes open slowly, eyelashes fluttering a bit as they readjust to the sunlight in the room. He looks around before his gaze settles on you, and for the briefest moment he seems lost. But then he remembers where he is, and he smiles at you.

“Hi,” his voice is sleepy and raspy, like he hasn’t used it in a long time. He closes his eyes again.

“No no, eyes open.”

“I’m awake,” he mumbles.

“Look at me,” you lean toward his face until your noses are almost touching.

Eyes open again and he blinks a few times. “Are you gonna kiss me?” He asks, and the sleepiness in his voice is unbearable.

Yes, if he wants you to, you will kiss him. You lick your lips. But first, “your mom is calling you.”

“Oh, she’s probably wondering why she hasn’t seen me since I got home.”

“Do you want me to call and tell her you’re busy?”

Seungmin laughs and finally seems to be fully awake. He shakes his head and slowly sits himself up. “Do I have bedhead?” He rubs his eyes and runs his hands through his hair.

“A little bit.” You comb a hand through it and fix his part, “it’s cute, though.”

“Nooo it’s not,” he flattens it more and lays back against the couch. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“You apologize too much.”

“Do I?”

You nod and sit down next to him, “I’m glad you were comfortable enough here to fall asleep.”

“Did I snore?” He looks a little embarrassed.

“No, you were pretty quiet. You kicked a few times, though.”

He almost apologizes, but stops himself and picks up his phone. He reads through his messages and eventually types a reply to one of them. Then he turns to you, “what should we do now that I’m well rested? Are you tired?” He throws his phone down and turns the rest of his body to you, “did you sleep at all?”

“I didn’t sleep, but I’m fine.”

“Maybe you should rest,” he smiles and tilts his head. “I can leave for a while and come back, if you’d like.”

“No, I don’t want you to leave.”

He nods, “We can try another movie,” Seungmin relaxes on the couch, pillow at his side, and extends an arm. “And if you fall asleep, we’ll be even.”

You stare at him for a long moment. It’s not until he beckons you with his hand that you realize it’s an invitation to cuddle up to him. And you take it without another moment of hesitation.

Your cheek settles against his chest, open hand spread out over his stomach. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in a little tighter.

“Are you comfortable?” He grazes his fingertips over your forearm, very slowly, as if he’s still testing the limit of touch between you.

“I am.” You feel the goosebumps jump up on your skin, and Seungmin runs his fingers over you again, like he notices.

He does notice. You hear a breathy little laugh come from him. “Good.”

Now you think you could definitely fall asleep. He’s warm, but a good warm; not like the summer heat moving around the room. You push your face further into the space under his arm and inhale.

“What should we try to watch? Maybe something funny.”

He browses through Netflix. Meanwhile, you can feel yourself slowly slipping into sleep. But you don’t want to fall asleep. Sleeping now would just be wasted time with Seungmin, so you adjust yourself and sit up a little more.

He sits up, too. His eyes are big and a little worried.

“I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“Okay, how can we keep you awake then?”

You stare at him thoughtlessly for a few seconds. Then you feel like maybe you’re blushing because he probably (probably?) isn’t thinking the same thing your sexually frustrated mind is thinking. Now you can’t get the thought out of your head. You try not to breath out like you’ve just been holding your breath for too long.

He grins a little, so you think the thought may have crossed his mind after he said it. But he stays quiet.

“Maybe we can…go for a walk,” you say it as you exhale and then take a steady breath in. At the same time, your brain is slowly unbuckling his belt and lifting his shirt. “We should go for a walk.”

“Okay, that sounds nice.”

____

It’s warm out, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

You changed into something to show a little more skin, because you might as well try to get his mind where yours is. He may not even be interested in going there.

“So, are you allowed to date yet?” It comes out before you even decide if it’s a good thing to bring up.

Seungmin giggles. You look at him and see him covering his mouth with his hand, but the smile in his eyes is obvious.

“Sorry, that came out of nowhere…”

“It’s alright. You can ask me anything you want,” he shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his walk a bit.

“Okay, I’ll just throw questions at you as I think of them.”

“Good,” he stops and bounces on the balls of his feet, “ we should get some boba.”

You were already concerned about Seungmin being recognized on your walk, and going into a boba place seems like the most obvious way for him to be seen. But you’re not going to tell him no.

“Maybe I should go in and get us both something, it seems a little busy in there.”

“If that makes you feel better, yes.”

“It doesn’t. I just don’t want you to get any unwanted attention.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” He brushes his hand against your arm and leads you across the street. “I’m not as popular or recognizable as you might think.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“If nobody expects to see me, they’ll miss me,” he hops up on the curb like a kid. It feels like he becomes more and more relaxed as the day goes on. “But…” he pulls a black face mask from his back pocket and loops it around his ears. “I’ll be much happier if you’re more comfortable.”

____

The sun is coming through the trees and leaving freckles of light over Seungmin’s face and chest. His eyes are closed, hands propping him up as he leans back and stares up at the sky.

“Hey, sorry…I didn’t mean to get quiet.”

“I have a question.”

He sits up fully and smiles, “oh I never answered you before. No dating. Openly. Technically.” He says it like he’s not sure if he’s using his English words correctly. “Maybe that wasn’t the question.”

“It wasn’t, but I did want to know that, too.” You sip your drink and think about your question again. You had it ready to go, but Seungmin said the word openly and you lost it. “Do you know that I’m older than you?”

“No, I didn’t know. But I don’t mind.” He gets on his hands and knees and crawls closer to you. “If you don’t mind that I’m younger.”

A breeze picks up and his hair is swept across his forehead. He tousles it a little until his bangs fall back in front of his eyes.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t,” the question starts forming in your head again. “Would you ever consider dating, uhm, me? I mean, let’s say you weren’t who you are and we still somehow met. Is that something you’d…consider?

Seungmin looks at you, and his eyes have certainly never been this big before. His ears and cheeks are slowly turning red. And he’s quiet. His mouth opens a bit, but no words come out. You’re afraid you asked the stupidest question you could have possibly thought of.

You made it weird.

“You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry. Please pretend I never said that.” You lift your knees to your chest and bury your face in the space there. You whimper a little to yourself and hope he doesn’t hear it.

“That’s a tough one.”

You can’t see his face, but you can imagine it.

In reality, he’s thinking and playing with his straw. Still blushing, still smiling. If you’d just lift your head and look at him, you’d see that he’s unable to contain his smirk.

“Let’s go back to you looking up at the sky and me not talking.” You relax as much as possible and your back gently hits the grass. You spread yourself out, hoping to sink into the ground.

“No,” he sips his drink and leans back on one hand. “You asked, now it’s out there forever.”

You peek up at him briefly and see his face in the sun again; eyes closed but smirk still tugging at his lips. Quiet and thoughtful.

“Seungmin?”

No answer. You look back at the sky, but you can hear him moving and getting closer. His shadow blocks the sun from your eyes, so you open them.

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay if you wouldn’t.”

Still no answer. Your eyes close again, and then he lays down next to you. It’s a nice moment, or it would be. The birds are singing and there’s the sound of the wind through the trees. The only other people around are far enough away that you can barely hear them.

You feel like you could cry.

Maybe he just isn’t very good at letting people down. He can’t find the right words to tell you it would never work, and that’s understandable, really. He’s sweet and thoughtful and kind. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He just wants to be friends.

You cover you eyes with both hands and sigh as quietly as possible.

“I would, but…I don’t know…” he hmmms and uumms a few times. “Nobody has ever asked me out before.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe much.”

"If that's true, it's because you're intimidating."

"Me?" He's trying not to laugh. "I'm not intimidating! Am I? Is it my face? Do I look angry?"

"Okay, wrong word to use. You're too handsome to approach, I mean. I would have never, on my own, started a conversation with you had I seen you at that coffee shop by yourself."

Now you sit up and shade him from the sun. There’s a stray eyelash on his cheek, so you lean forward to gently blow it off.

His eyes flutter open. "I am not too handsome to approach." He whispers and lets himself laugh out loud.

“Okay fine…so I’m your first.”

“So you’re not taking it back?”

“You mentioned meeting your friends earlier. Did I interpret that wrong?”

He shakes his head.

“Then no, I guess I’m not taking it back.”

----

The trip back is not awkward. You expected him to keep his distance, physically and mentally, but he walks almost shoulder to shoulder with you the entire time. He hasn’t given you any type of answer yet, but you’re not worried about it. Part of you still wants to take it back and let things flow at a slower pace. This is, after all, only your second date. The other part of you is already on fire. It’s a tough line to walk.

Inside the apartment it’s gotten much warmer, and you regret not starting the AC before leaving. It’ll take forever to cool down now. You close the windows, lower the shades, and pull the curtains closed. Then you head to the couch and collapse onto it.

Seungmin makes himself at home by heading to the bathroom, then finding himself (and you) something cold to drink. You’re too distracted to even care that he’s digging around in your messy fridge.

“I forgot about this,” he grabs the bag from the side table and dangles it in front of his face. “Your gift.”

You sit up against the arm rest and smile at him, “thank you, Seungmin.” Inside is a small yellow dog plush. “Oh, it’s you!” You squeeze him and adjust the hoodie he’s wearing before bringing him up to your face. “Was he yours?”

“Yeah, he was mine.”

“He smells like you.”

“Is that a good thing?” He sits down by your folded legs and sets a hand just above your knee.

He’s touchy today...almost as much as you. And for never being properly asked out (now you wonder what else he hasn’t experienced), he knows just what to do to make you squirm.

You sit up a little more, bumping his hand off of you by mistake. He pulls it back a little, so you reach out and take it in yours. “Yeah, it is.”

He squeezes your hand and pulls you closer so he can place a kiss on your lips. You kiss back, but your brain takes a second to catch up with your mouth. When it finally does, you kiss hard enough to force him back against the couch.

Seungmin is better in action than he is with words today.

He doesn’t struggle against you or ease up, but pushes on with just as much enthusiasm.

You don’t know what to do with your hands, though. You have a lot of options. Through the hair? No. Neck? Maybe, but you don’t want to be too rough at this angle, and he might not be into that. Face? It’s a good option, and his cheeks are soft and nice to touch. And it's not too much.

Before you can decide, he takes your other hand and pulls until you have no choice but to swing a leg over his lap. And then his hands are on either side of your thighs.

You pull back and look at him.

He stares back, catching his breath. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at answering your questions.”

“You don’t have to.” You let your hands wander over his chest and down his sides. He squirms just a little; probably ticklish. When your hands settle on his belt, you lean in to kiss him again. On his lips, over his cheek. “I shouldn’t have put that on you.”

“I’m glad you did,” he looks down at your hands. “It was nice to be thought of like that. It felt good.”

“If I can see you again, that’s enough for me.”

“Is it?”

It really isn’t, but you decided on the walk back that anything with Seungmin would be okay. “If it’s what you can give me, yeah.”

Your needy, clingy heart feels like it’s crumbling, but you do your best to keep it from showing on your face.

“I can’t promise much, but I can try.”

You kiss him again, and without thinking it through properly; without thinking at all, really, you slide your fingers down and over the zipper of his shorts and feel the significant bulge that you somehow didn’t notice before.

Seungmin’s tiny oh and his hand wrapping around the offending wrist makes your stomach sink. His eyes are wide and fixed on you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you gently push yourself away from him and sit against the opposite side of the couch, hands covering your red face. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

“It’s okay,” he giggles and adjusts himself, and you watch from behind one hand as he runs a palm between his thighs. “Please don’t be upset, you didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice softens as he speaks, and the last part is a barely audible whisper, “it was my fault.” But the grin on his face only sharpens. He’s looking down at his hands as they nervously fidget with the hem of his shorts.

“Was that uh, a first, too?” You regret asking it as soon as it leaves your mouth.

He doesn’t answer right away. You’re worried he feels embarrassed about it. And you feel weird for bringing it up. The urge to get closer to him is kept under control for now.

“It’s no big deal, Minnie…if it was.”

Using his nickname breaks him from his trance, and he looks at you, blinks, nods. “Yeah, it was.”

“Did you want that? I mean, when you pulled me on top of you.” Now you scoot a little closer. “You can give me boundaries.”

“I got caught up in the moment.” He starts, thinking and picking his words carefully. “But I did want to kiss you like that.”

“Got it,” closer still, until your knee is brushing against his thigh. “You can always stop me if I go overboard. Sometimes I can be too much.”

“Is that bad? Too much is sometimes nice.”

“I guess it depends…”

You lean forward until your forehead can lay on his shoulder. His cheek rests on your head. You stay that way until you feel yourself relaxing and drifting into a half-sleep.

“I think it’s time to rest.” You don’t move, but Seungmin lifts his head.

“That’s a good idea,” He grabs the pillow to his right and puts it on your side of the couch. “Do you want me to stay?”

You lay back on the couch and sigh. “Yeah, I do. If you want to.”

“I do…move over.”

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